Indiana Jones 5: The Honeymoon Adventure
by Jlbrew28
Summary: On his honeymoon with his family, Indy runs into a couple of old friends. Mutt just runs into trouble. Paris may never be the same. Sequel to: Indiana Jones 4: 1952 Version. Warning: spanking later on.
1. The Arrival

_**Indiana Jones**_

_**and the **_

_**Honeymoon Adventure**_

Summary: Indy runs into a couple of old friends. Mutt runs into some BIG TROUBLE. Paris may never be the same again.

Author's Note: Mutt is just fifteen. Sequel to: Indiana Jones 4: 1952 Version.

Warning: spanking later on.

Disclaimer: I don't own Indiana Jones or any of these characters. They belong solely to George Lucas, Steven Spielberg, and Paramount Pictures.

Chapter 1: The Arrival

Summer of 1952.

_Paris, City of Lights_.

At least, that's what the captain on the plane had called it.

After fourteen hours on a plane, Henry "Mutt" Jones didn't give a damn what the stupid city was called, he just wanted off the stinkin' plane!

He still couldn't believe his parents had dragged him along on their honeymoon.

_Only the infamous Indiana Jones would do something that crazy!_

His father, Professor Henry "Indiana" Jones Jr. was a world famous archeologist/adventurer. He had traveled extensively throughout the world, finding bits and pieces of lost history and returning it to modern man.

_Right now, I just wish he'd find our hotel room!_

In his faded brown fedora, suit, and bowtie Indy (as he was called by his friends) stood taller than everyone else. Linking arms with his recently wed wife, though he had known and loved her for well over thirty years, he latched onto his fifteen year old son's arm so as not lose him in the ground.

"Stick close, Junior," he told Mutt. "I'd hate to have to put you on a leash."

Mutt rolled his eyes. "Very funny," he said, scowling. "Can we get outta here now?"

"What if I want to stay?" Indy asked him, smirking. "What are you gonna do then, wise guy?"

Marion rolled her eyes at her husband and son. "Would you two stop it?" she told them, hands on her hips. "You've been bickering the whole time. Can we please just enjoy ourselves?"

Indy grinned. "Of course, honey," he told her, pecking her on the lips. "You're the boss, after all."

Mutt rolled his eyes. _I think I'm gonna be sick._

"Hey, hey," Indy told him, swatting the back of his head, "none of that."

Mutt looked at him innocently. "I didn't say anything," he told him, shrugging.

Indy leveled a pointed look at him. "Doesn't mean you weren't thinking it," he told him, and then went to collect their luggage.

Mutt scowled. _How does he do THAT?_

Marion just chuckled and kissed her son's forehead. "Please try and cheer up," she begged him. "We want you to have fun."

"Yeah," he said, sarcastically, "before you ship me back to the salt mines, right?"

Marion sighed. He was still not accepting the fact that he was going back to school in the fall. "Henry," she told him, firmly. "Enough."

Mutt sighed. "Fine, Mom," he said, and the decided to change the subject. "Do you think we could get something to eat?"

"I'm sure they'll have something at the hotel," she assured him, and then grabbed his arm and dragged him through the crowd where Indy stood waiting with their luggage.

Indy hailed a taxi and they piled in. He spoke to the driver in fluent French and the man nodded, headed for their destination. When they arrived at their hotel, Mutt was stunned at the sheer size of it. How could his college professor father afford such an expensive place?

"Hey, Pops," he said, getting Indy's attention, "I think we need to talk about raising my allowance."

Indy looked puzzled. "You don't get an allowance," he reminded.

Mutt gave him a look. "My point exactly," he said, and then gestured to the hotel. "How can we afford this? You said teaching doesn't pay all that well?"

"It doesn't," Indy told him, gesturing for him to help unload the luggage from the car. "My old friend, Marcus Brody, left me quite a bit of money when he died. I using a little bit of it for our trip."

"What about the rest?" Mutt asked, curious.

"That's gonna be your college fund," Indy told him, grinning.

The teenager scowled. "I already told you," he said, "I'm gonna be…"

"A mechanic," Indy finished for him, "I know. Well, maybe it'll go to help you start your business. We still got to get you through high school first, remember?"

Mutt scowled. "Don't remind me," he grumbled, though there wasn't much feeling behind it.

Indy smirked. "Come on, Junior," he said, gesturing to where Marion was waiting for them, "your mother's waiting."

Mutt nodded. "Right behind you, Daddy-O," he said, following the archeologist/adventurer up the steps of the hotel and into the lobby to check into their room.

On their way to the front desk, Mutt noticed a couple girls about his own age staring at him appreciatively. He grinned.

_Maybe this won't be such a __**bad**_ _trip, after all._

TBC…


	2. The Songbird

Indiana Jones

_**Indiana Jones**_

_**and the **_

_**Honeymoon Adventure**_

Summary: Indy runs into a couple of old friends. Mutt runs into some BIG TROUBLE. Paris may never be the same again.

Author's Note: Mutt is just fifteen. Sequel to: Indiana Jones 4: 1952 Version.

Warning: spanking later on.

Disclaimer: I don't own Indiana Jones or any of these characters. They belong solely to George Lucas, Steven Spielberg, and Paramount Pictures.

Chapter 2: The Songbird

The sounds of Paris, most notably/oddly Jazz music, wafted through the open window of the Jones' hotel suite window. It was dusk; the sun was just beginning to set, and the famous lights that gave the city its name were just beginning to be lit.

Indiana sat in the living area of the suite, dressed in a tux with a white jacket and his spectacles, reading the newspaper by the fading light of the sun. Marion and Mutt were still getting ready for the evening, as the family planned to go to a night club for dinner…something their teenage son had balked at the instant he'd heard about it and had flat out refused to go…only to discover he had no choice in the matter and unless he wanted his father's undivided "attention" he'd get his butt in gear and get ready.

"Uh, Dad," Mutt's voice drifted to Indy's ears from behind him, "do you think you could help me with this?"

Indy turned, and grinned. Mutt was dressed for the most part in his new gray suit that he'd worn for their wedding, but the tie was held in his hand in puzzlement. The day of the wedding he'd had to help him, too.

Setting the newspaper aside, Indy stood up and crossed the distance between them. "Sure, kiddo," he said, grinning. He took the tie from him and turned the collar of his shirt up to wrap it around his neck.

As his father tied his tie for him, Mutt sighed. "I don't see why I can't just stay here," he groaned, half-heartedly. He'd lost the will to fight when his stomach had started grumbling loudly for the need of food.

"Because," Indy told him, concentrating on what it was he was doing, "an old friend of mine owns this place we're going to and I want you to turn the old Jones charm on and dazzle her."

Mutt rolled his eyes. "Her?" he asked, smirking. "Doesn't that mean you already turned the 'old Jones charm' on her and got her to…?"

His father slapped him upside the head, gently. "Not in your mother's hearing distance, Junior," he told him, grinning. "This _is_ our honeymoon, after all." He finished tying the tie and then straightened it.

Mutt just shook his head. "Mom knows you've had plenty of other women, Pops," he told him, matter-of-factly.

Indy raised an eyebrow. "Remind me to give you a certain talk when we get back, Junior," he told him, smiling evilly.

Mutt's eyes widened in horror at the very idea. "Uh," he said, "I think I need to go get my…uh…shoes. Yeah, that's it." He hastily turned to go, but Indy's hand on his shoulder stopped him.

The archeologist/adventurer held his hand out. "Hand it over," he ordered, knowing.

Mutt scowled, but reached into his pocket and retrieved the switchblade he carried. "It's not like I was planning on sticking anybody with it," he grumbled, handing his father the blade.

Indy pocketed it. "That's not the point," he told him, firmly.

Mutt sighed. "Can I at least—"

"No, you can't wear your leather jacket," Indy told him, affectively cutting him off.

"What about…" Again, his father was two steps ahead of him.

"No," Indy answered, automatically, "you can't wear those cuffed up boots of yours."

Mutt scowled. He opened his mouth, but was once more interrupted.

"And yes," Indy told him, smirking, "I do know every thing."

Mutt crossed his arms and raised an eyebrow at that, managing to make his father look sheepish.

"All right," Indy conceded, "maybe not _everything_, but certainly _a lot._"

A throat being cleared had them turning to find Marion standing in the doorway to her and Indy's room. She was dressed in a floor-length evening dress with black-and-white sequences all over it.

Indy crossed to her and kissed her. "You look beautiful, Honey," he told her, sincerely.

Just the sight of her reminded him that this _was_ their honeymoon!

"Yeah, Mom," Mutt said, grinning. "Ya look awesome."

"My," Marion said, teasing, "a girl could get used to such complements from two handsome gentlemen such as the two of you." She walked further into the room and did a girlish spin to show off her dress more.

Indy looked at his watch. "Not to interrupt, Hon," he told his wife, "but if we're going to make the show we'd best be heading out."

Marion nodded, going and getting her coat and purse. "Let's go," she told her men, headed for the door.

Indy and Mutt exchanged amused glanced. It seemed she was even more in a hurry to meet this "old" friend of Indy's than Indy himself. Wrapping an arm around each other's shoulders, father and son headed after Mrs. Jones—who was by now hailing a taxi with a sharp whistle and a yell, if they had to guess.

The nightclub the taxi pulled up to was called "The Songbird", and upon entering it the family was greeted immediately as if they were VIPs and came there every night. The host seated them, and a waiter was there immediately to get their orders. He also told them that the show was about to start. He then rushed to the kitchen to get their orders started.

"Prompt service," Indy said, grinning. "Gotta love it."

"Did this old friend of yours by any chance know you were coming?" Marion asked her husband, shrewdly.

Indy shrugged. "Maybe," he said, smirking.

Just then, the lights dimmed and spotlight at the front lit up. "Ladies and Gentlemen," the orchestra conductor announced, "it is with great pleasure for me to present _The Songbird's_ songbird, Ms. Wilamina Scott!"

From behind the curtain stepped a familiar looking blonde woman in her early forties, who happened to be dressed in a familiar looking red sequined dress. The orchestra began playing a familiar song, as she stepped up to the mike.

"Good evening ladies and gentlemen," she greeted them, her smile lighting up her bright blue eyes. "We have a very special guest with us tonight, and this song is for him." Then she began singing.

When the final words of the song "Anything Goes" were sung, Willie Scott's gaze was directed most definitely in Indy's direction. In response, he held up his glass to her in a salute. "Willie," he said, smirking, "you haven't changed a bit." He shook his head, memories of their time together flitting into his brain.

"Just remember, Mr. Jones," Marion whispered to him, "you're married now."

Indy looked at his wife and smiled. "Don't worry, Babe," he told her, wrapping an arm around her, "I know exactly who I want to wake up to tomorrow morning…and be in bed with me tonight." He waggled his eyebrows suggestively at her.

"Uh," Mutt groaned, "do ya mind? I'm trying to _eat_ here!"

Indy glared at him, but then smiled as the blonde singer was making her way towards them. "Indiana Jones," she greeted them. "It's been too long."

"Willie Scott," Indy greeted her, rising to peck her on the cheek. "How ya been, doll?"

Willie shrugged. "I can't complain," she said, smiling at his family. "Aren't you going to introduce us?"

"Oh, right," Indy said, looking at his family. "This is my wife, Marion, and our son, Henry."

"It's Mutt," Mutt grumbled, sourly. He was ignored, of course.

"I've heard a great deal about you, Willie," Marion told the other woman pleasantly, shaking her hand.

"Oh no," Willie grumbled, eyeing Indy in horror, "not India I hope."

Indy just gave her a shrug and a smirk.

The blonde woman groaned, sinking into a chair. "Not one of my most shining moments, I'm afraid," she confessed to Marion, "but one good thing did come from it."

"Really?" Indy asked, puzzled. "What?"

"I met my future husband," she told him, grinning mysteriously.

"You did?" Indy asked, even more puzzled now.

"She did," a male voice behind them spoke.

Turning, they found themselves staring at a tall Chinese man of about thirty. His black hair was greased back; he sported a thin mustache and goatee. Their was something all together familiar about him, but Indy couldn't quite place where he'd seen him before.

"I should know you," he said, puzzling over who this man could be.

The Chinese man smiled. "Maybe this will help," he said, pulling from behind his back an old worn baseball cap and slapping it on his head…only to turn it around backwards a second later.

Indy's mouth dropped open, and he shot up out of his chair.

"Or maybe this," the man said, holding up a wallet. "You're getting slow in your old age, Dr. Jones. The first time you caught me." The smile the man gave him was mischievous and full of merriment.

Indy's hand automatically went to his back pocket, only to find sure enough his wallet was missing.

"Short Round!" he exclaimed, pulling the man he had not seen in almost ten years into a tight hug. "How you been!?"

"I can't complain, Indy," the man told him, handing him back his wallet.

He then walked over to stand behind Willie Scott, placing his left hand (that sported a wedding band on it) on her shoulder. In response, she reached over with her left (that also sported a wedding band on it) and placed it over his.

They gazed fondly at each other.

For the second time that night, Indiana Jones' mouth dropped open and he dropped back into his chair as if he were a stone. He looked from one to the other in open astonishment, unable to find the words to express his shock. When he found them, they echoed all over the night club.

"YOU'RE MARRIED!"

TBC…

(A.N.—PLEASE, don't hurt me! I thought it would be ironic if the sidekick got the girl for once…especially if that sidekick was a kid when the adventure took place. LOL.)


	3. The Story

Indiana Jones

_**Indiana Jones**_

_**and the **_

_**Honeymoon Adventure**_

Summary: Indy runs into a couple of old friends. Mutt runs into some BIG TROUBLE. Paris may never be the same again.

Author's Note: Mutt is just fifteen. Sequel to: Indiana Jones 4: 1952 Version.

Warning: spanking later on.

Disclaimer: I don't own Indiana Jones or any of these characters. They belong solely to George Lucas, Steven Spielberg, and Paramount Pictures.

Chapter 3: The Story

Dr. Henri Li Quan, a.k.a Short Round, sat beside his wife while he regaled Indy's family on how he and the archeologist/adventurer first met.

"Hold it," Mutt said, "you mean you picked his pocket!"

Shorty nodded. "Yep," he said, grinning, "or rather I tried to. He caught me before my hand had even dipped into his pocket."

Mutt looked at his father. "He was just a kid, right?" he asked, raising an eyebrow.

Indy nodded. "Twelve or thirteen, I believe," he said, "if I remember right."

"I had just turned thirteen," Shorty said, "but I didn't look it."

"And he didn't do anything, even yell?" Mutt asked, eyeing his father indignantly. "He'd have roasted my butt!"

Shorty blushed, hesitantly.

"Go on, Shorty," Indy told him, "tell him."

The Chinese man looked uncomfortable. "Do I have to?" he asked, pleadingly.

Indy nodded, firmly. "Yes," he said, grinning.

Shorty grinned. "Oh, very well," he said, looking at Mutt. "I didn't much appreciate being grabbed and I may have _overreacted_ a little bit."

Indy snorted. "More than a little bit," he said. "You yelled curses at me that I hadn't even heard of before and then you kicked me!"

Mutt grinned. "He did?" he asked, smiling.

Indy glared at the Chinese man. "He sure did," he said, "and it's a good thing his aim wasn't all that great otherwise you might not have been born."

Shorty sighed. "I did say I was sorry, Indy," he reminded him.

"Yeah," Indy said, "afterwards. Go on, tell him what happened next."

"Well," Shorty said, still looking uncomfortable, "after I kicked him he got mad. He dragged me into an alley where…uh…he proceeded…oh, Indy, don't make me say it!"

"Fine," Indy said, smirking. "I will. I drug him into an alley, sat down on some boxes, and then I tanned his bare backside! That kick he gave me nearly broke something, and I was mad!"

Mutt winced. "Ouch," he muttered, remembering the spanking his father had given him a little over a month ago in Nazca, Peru…and he hadn't even known he was his father then!

Shorty nodded. "Tell me about it," he said, sighing, "but after that he did something won my respect."

"What was that?" Marion asked, curious. She and Willie had sat while their husbands reminisced, but her curiousity got the better of her.

"He let me go," Shorty said, simply. "He told me to take it easy and watch who I stole from the next time, and then gave me some money. After that, he was my hero and I wasn't about to let him go anywhere without me. Remember what happened next, Indy?"

Indy winced. "Do I have to?" he asked, repeating his friend's earlier plea.

Shorty nodded. "Yep," he said, smugly. "Go on, tell 'em."

"Fine," the older adventurer huffed. "He saved my life."

"How'da ya do that?" Mutt asked, getting into the story now despite himself.

"These two thugs had jumped him," Shorty explained, "and I ran them over with a cart."

Indy nodded. "Plowed right through 'em," he said, grinning. "Managed to snag me into the cart at the same time and kept right on running."

"Sounds familiar," Willie said, smiling at her husband. He smiled back at her.

Indy still was trying to get used to that. "Enough about me," he said, "I want to know how you two ended up hitched!?"

Willie sighed. "Well," she explained, "after our adventure together in India, I came to Paris where I met my first husband, Colin Williams."

Indy nodded. "I know that," he said. "I introduced you two."

Willie nodded. "Yes, you did," she said, smiling in gratitude. "He helped me start this club and we were happy for eight years together, we even had the most beautiful little girl."

"So, what happened?" Mutt asked, curious.

Willie grew sad. "WW II happened," she explained. "Colin returned to England to be a RAF pilot and was shot down early in the war."

"Oh, Willie," Marion said, sympathetic, "I'm so sorry."

The singer nodded. "I've learned to accept it over time," she said, shrugging. "I still had my daughter and was happy for the most part—if a bit lonely."

"As for me," Shorty said, "Indy took me to the States with him. His friend, Marcus Brody, helped pay for my schooling. I graduated when I was fifteen, and went on to attend Marshall College…studying under the infamous Dr. Henry Jones." He grinned at Indy, who shrugged.

"When the war came," Indy said, "Shorty enlisted, despite my protest, and went to fight in the Pacific. I was drafted by the OSS and went to the European front. We wrote, but it as difficult after while to keep in touch."

Shorty nodded. "Yes," he said. "After the war and it had been liberated, I came to Paris to finish my degree in archeology. I received your letter Indy about how Willie was supposed to have settled here and so I looked her up."

"I was so surprised how much he had changed," Willie said. "The last time I had seen him, he'd been this scrawny kid with a big mouth. All of a sudden he was this handsome young man with enough charm to bring down a female rhino. Like I said, I was lonely and he made me feel young and beautiful again."

"You are young and beautiful," Shorty told her, caressing her cheek. "You always will be to me."

She blushed. "Now you see why I love him," she said to Marion.

Marion nodded. "You definitely learned a lot from Indy," she commented, smiling at her own husband.

Indy just grinned. "We all have our legacies," he said, shrugging.

"Soon afterwards, we were married," Shorty concluded their tale. "We've been very happy together for the last five years."

Indy started to say something, when a young voice called out stopping him.

"Mama! Papa!"

He was even more surprised when a little boy of about five years old with his father's Asian features, but his mother's blue eyes, came running up and jumped into Short Round's lap.

"Indy," Shorty said to the boy, "you are supposed to be a sleep."

"I wanted to kiss you good night, Papa," the little fellow said, hugging his father.

"Come here, baby," Willie said, taking him from his father, "there someone we'd like you to meet."

"Indiana Jones," Shorty said, speaking to Indy, "we'd like you to meet Indiana Scott Quan."

"You're godson," Willie said, smiling.

For the third time that night, Indy's mouth dropped open in surprise.

TBC…


	4. The Girl

Indiana Jones

_**Indiana Jones**_

_**and the **_

_**Honeymoon Adventure**_

Summary: Indy runs into a couple of old friends. Mutt runs into some BIG TROUBLE. Paris may never be the same again.

Author's Note: Mutt is just fifteen. Sequel to: Indiana Jones 4: 1952 Version.

Warning: spanking later on.

Disclaimer: I don't own Indiana Jones or any of these characters. They belong solely to George Lucas, Steven Spielberg, and Paramount Pictures.

Chapter 4: The Girl

Lil' Indy got down off his mother's lap and hopped, much to his namesake's surprise, into his godfather's.

"Hi," he greeted him, smiling with his two front teeth missing, "I'm Indy."

Indiana smiled. "I'm Indy, too," he told him.

The little boy smiled, his blue eyes (which given his Asian features stood out noticeably) twinkling with merriment. "Can I wear your hat?" he asked, pointing to the fedora Indy still had on his head.

Indy grinned. "Sure thing, short stuff," he said, and promptly removed the hat to plop it down onto the little boy's head, where it sunk down to cover his entire face. Out of the corner of his eye, he noticed his son's slightly jealous gaze and winced inwardly.

_Good job, Indy, _he silently berated himself_. First chance I get, I'm gonna buy that boy his own fedora…along with that bike I promised him._

The look only lasted a fraction of a second, as Mutt obviously realized how ridiculous it was to be jealous of a five year old little boy.

_The old man still could have let me _try_ on the stupid hat, _he grumbled silently to himself.

"Indiana," a sharp female voice exclaimed out of no where, "there you are!"

Both Big and Little Indy turned to look at who had spoken. A teenage girl of about fifteen with shoulder length brown hair and large brown eyes wearing what was obviously the skirt and blouse of a school uniform was making her way towards them.

"Sorry, Mom," the girl said to Willie, "but the little runt got away while I was washing the dishes." She put her hands on her hips and glared at the little boy who still had on the faded fedora.

"It's all right, sweetheart," Willie told her, "I'd like you to meet some friends of ours. Indy, Marion, Henry, this is my daughter Winifred Williams."

"It's Freddie," the girl said, smiling. "So, you are the infamous Dr. Indiana Jones?"

Indy smirked. "That's what it says on my underwear," he said, ignoring his wife's eye roll. He studied the girl a moment.

She was the exact opposite of her mother, and not just in her hair and eye coloring, either. While Willie was short with soft rounded features, her daughter was tall with a heart shaped face, dimples, and was much more smaller proportioned than her shapely mother.

"It's nice to meet you, Freddie," Marion introduced herself, since it was obvious her husband wasn't, "and this is our son, Henry." She turned to Mutt, signaling with her eyes that he was to be nice.

"It's Mutt," he told the girl, smirking.

She raised an eyebrow at him. "What kind of name is that?" she asked, grinning.

"Mine," Mutt shrugged. "What kind of name is Freddie?"

"My father called me that," she told him, glaring.

He grinned, looking very much like his father in that moment. "It suits you," he said, eyeing her. "I guess."

Her brown eyes narrowed. "So does yours," she told him, heatedly.

He frowned; he didn't think that was complement. He started to reply but his father clearing his throat and giving him a significant look stopped him. He settled for just glaring at her. She, of course, glared back.

"I think it might be time a certain little one was put to bed," Short Round suggested, sensing the tension between the two teens. "Do you mind, Win?"

Freddie grinned, since her stepfather was the only one to ever call her that. "Of course not, Shorty," she told him. "Come on, Munchkin. Kiss everyone goodnight now." She reached for her little brother.

"But I wanna stay with Unca Indy," the little boy whined. "I want to hear 'bout his and papa's 'ventures!"

"We're gonna be here for while, short stuff," Indy told him. "I promise to tell you a story later. Okay?"

The little boy frowned, thinking it over. "All right," he decided. "You promise?"

Indy grinned. "I promise," he assured the child. "Now, you go with your sister." He handed him to the teenager.

"Thank you, Dr. Jones," she said, smiling.

"Just call me Indy," Indiana told her, "or Indy. That's what your mom always called me." He noticed Willie blush at that. He didn't clarify just what they were doing when she called him that and he wasn't about to.

"All right," the girl said. "Goodnight, Mrs. Jones."

"Please call me Marion, dear," Marion told her, smiling.

The girl nodded again, and then she looked at Mutt. "Goodnight," she told him, "_Mutt._"

"Night, _Freddie_," he responded, just as snidely as she had said his name.

She glared, but then turned to take her little brother to the loft that they, their mother, and Short Round lived above the club.

Indy, Marion, Willie, and Short Round all turned to regard Mutt with various looks. His father scowled and his mother glared while Willie and Short Round just seemed amused by the situation.

Grinning nervously, the teenager looked at all of them a moment before he opened his mouth to ask an important question.

"So, anyone for dessert?"

TBC…


	5. The Words

Indiana Jones

_**Indiana Jones**_

_**and the **_

_**Honeymoon Adventure**_

Summary: Indy runs into a couple of old friends. Mutt runs into some BIG TROUBLE. Paris may never be the same again.

Author's Note: Mutt is just fifteen. Sequel to: Indiana Jones 4: 1952 Version.

Warning: spanking later on.

Disclaimer: I don't own Indiana Jones or any of these characters. They belong solely to George Lucas, Steven Spielberg, and Paramount Pictures.

Chapter 5: The Words

The next morning, Indy lay in bed staring at his beautiful wife who still slumbered after a wonderful "honeymoon" night. He still couldn't believe that after all these years, the feisty woman was actually his wife.

Reaching over, he rubbed her arm; enjoying the feeling of the soft skin beneath his hardened fingetips. He hadn't meant to wake her, but he did. Opening her eyes, she smiled at him. "Good morning, Dr. Jones," she said, smiling.

He smiled back. "Good morning, Mrs. Jones. Sleep well?"

"You know I did," she told him, grinning mischeviously. "How about you?"

"Better than I have in a long time," he told her, honestly. "I love you." It suddenly dawned on him that he hadn't ever said that to her. He'd certainly _expressed_ his feelings for her—especially last night—but he hadn't ever said those three very special words before.

Her blue eyes widened with pure pleasure. "I love you, too," she told him, leaning up to kiss him.

He deepened the kiss, reawakening the passion from the night before. They soon were making love again, but this time it was gentler and not brought on by the mix of euphoria and champagne.

Indy realized, as he once more lay beside her in after glow, that he was truly happy for the first time in his life…and content. He had a beautiful, vibrate, and passionate, wife who loved him simply for him and who understood him in a way no one ever could or did.

He also had a son, that would someday outshine him, and he couldn't be prouder of the fact that he was by far his greatest accomplishment and most enduring legacy upon the world. He couldn't help but wish his dad could be here with them, could get to know his grandson in a way he never really got to know his own son.

"You're going to get wrinkles," Marion told him, grinning.

Blinking, he looked at her. "Huh?" he asked, confused a moment.

She reached up to run a finger across his brow. "You're thinking too hard," she said, teasing, "It's written all over your face."

He smirked at her. "Maybe I'm just comparing you to a few of the other women I've been with," he told her, waggling his eyebrows are her."

"Oh, really?" she asked, grinning. "How do I rate?"

Indy chuckled. "Better than the best," he told her, pulling her next to him. "You are the only woman I ever want to make love to ever again, Marion Jones, and don't you ever forget it."

Marion had never heard anything more beautiful than that. "Oh, Indy," she said, tears falling down her face. "All the time we wasted!"

Indy nodded. "I know, love," he told her, kissing the top of her head, "but that's behind us now. It's in the past and there's nothing we can do to change it. All that matters now is the future we make for ourselves and our son."

Marion nodded, and then grinned. "Speaking of our son," she said, "I think you'd best go get him up now."

"Me?" Indy asked, feigning indignantly. "Why me? I'm happy where I am."

"So am I," she told him, grinning, "but you and Mutt need to spend some time together, Indy. Just the two of you."

"We have spent time together," he told her. "Remember, down in the Amazon?"

Marion rolled her eyes at him. "I mean spending time with him when we're not running for our lives in some forsaken jungle being chased by insane Russians," she told him, bluntly. "He's still getting used to this, Indy. He needs to know you as his dad, instead of just as the guy who's constantly jumping his case."

"I don't do that, do I?" he asked, uncertainly. He didn't want to be like his dad, distant except when getting on to him about something.

"No," she assured him, "but you could easily go that direction, which is why you just need to spend some time with him. Talk to him, get to know him better and let him get to know you."

Indy nodded, sighing. "All right," he said, kissing her again, "I'll go get him up. Maybe I'll teach him to play chess. You want breakfast now or later?" He got out of bed, putting on the underwear and pants he'd removed (rather hastily) the night before.

Marion leaned back against the pillow. "Later," she said, dreamily. "I think I'll go back to sleep." It was obvious she was already well on her way to doing just that.

Indy chuckled. "All right," he said, kissing her forehead. "The kid and I'll be quiet." He got up then and headed out of their room.

Walking into the living area, he crossed over to his son's bedroom and knocked. "Mutt," he called out, "time to rise and shine, kiddo." Silence greeted him. Puzzled, but thinking the boy was still asleep; he opened the door and went in. He stopped short at the sight.

Mutt's bed was still made; obviously it hadn't been slept in. The suit he'd worn last night was folded neatly over top of it. The boy's jeans, leather jacket, and motorcycle boots were missing.

At first, Indy started to panic thinking that maybe someone had come and abducted the kid, but then realized that if that was the case the kid wouldn't have had time to change.

So that left one conclusion. Sometime after he and Marion had fallen asleep, their fifteen year old son had pulled a disappearing act all on his own.

Just then, he heard the door to their suite open and went to see who had entered. It was Mutt, dressed in his usual attire, and it was also obvious he was trying to be extra quiet.

When he turned and found Indy staring at him, he jumped. "P-Pop," he stammered, surprised, "w-what are you doing up already?"

Indy's eyes narrowed angrily.

"Where the HELL have you been?"

_So much trying **not** to jump his case…_

Mutt gulped.

Uh oh!

TBC…


	6. The Explanation

Indiana Jones

_**Indiana Jones**_

_**and the **_

_**Honeymoon Adventure**_

Summary: Indy runs into a couple of old friends. Mutt runs into some BIG TROUBLE. Paris may never be the same again.

Author's Note: Mutt is just fifteen. Sequel to: Indiana Jones 4: 1952 Version.

Warning: spanking later on.

Disclaimer: I don't own Indiana Jones or any of these characters. They belong solely to George Lucas, Steven Spielberg, and Paramount Pictures.

Chapter 6: The Explanation

"Well, Henry?" Indy asked his son, crossing his arms over his bare chest.

Mutt winced. "I wish you wouldn't call me that," he told him, hesitantly.

"Tough," Indy told him, firmly, "start explaining."

Mutt just stared, not saying a word.

Indy's eyes narrowed even more, his anger increasing.

"Henry," he told him, his voice as sharp a knife, "if you don't say something in the next five seconds so _help_ me I'll…" Thankfully, the kid cut him off before he'd even got a chance to finish the threat.

"I was just walking," the kid told him, "I swear."

Indy raised an eyebrow. "Walking?" he asked, confused.

Mutt nodded. "Yeah," he said, "after we got back last night and I changed I couldn't sleep—I guess, I ate too much of that chocolate moose we had for dessert—anyway, so I decided to go for a walk. The pilot said Paris is the city of lights, so I went and looked at the lights." He shrugged, not sure what else was there to explain.

Unfortunately, this had the opposite affect on his father than he expected. Instead of calming him down, it only seemed to make him angrier. "Let me get this straight," Indy told him, involuntarily taking a step toward him. "Instead of being in bed, like your mother and I thought you were, you were up _walking_ the streets of Paris ALL NIGHT?"

Again, Mutt winced. "Well, yeah," he said, shrugging again. "I mean, you and Mom were—uh—well, occupied and I was bored. It seemed like a good idea at the time."

Though, now it certainly didn't seem so.

Indy just stared at him in disbelief. "Do you have any idea what could have happened to you?" he growled, his fear and worry surpassing his anger now. "What if something had happened, Mutt? What if you had been attacked, or gotten hurt? Your mother and I wouldn't have been able to help you because we wouldn't have known where you were!?"

Mutt winced a third time. He hadn't thought of that.

"I didn't think about that," he admitted, sheepishly. "I was just bored and went for a walk. I didn't mean to stay out all night, but I got to walking and…well, Paris is a BIG city, you know?"

"I do know," Indy told him, bluntly. "It's a big city and—no offense, son—you're a small teenager compared to it. You could easily have gotten lost, maimed, hurt, or…_even killed!"_

The very idea sent shivers down his spine and caused his heart to skip a beat.

In the short time he'd known him, he'd come to love this smart-mouth, quick tempered, loyal, and bright young man with all his heart. The thought of something befalling his son—his still very young, very vulnerable son—made tears sting his eyes.

"I'm sorry, Dad," Mutt told him, not really knowing just what he could say to make this all right with his newly acquired father. "I thought I'd get back before you or Mom woke up."

"Obviously," Indy said, his anger returning as he remembered the boy trying to sneak back in without waking him or Marion. "You are SO luck we aren't at home right now, young man!" He pointed an accusing finger at him; he's eyes hard from anger, fear, and worry.

Mutt's eyes widened. "Uh…" he said, not sure how to respond to that.

"If we were home right now," Indy told him, "you'd be grounded for the rest of the summer…on top of me blistering your backside!"

Mutt's eyes widened even more. "Come on, Dad," he pleaded, "It's not like I snuck out to go to a bar or something." Although, he'd passed several and the thought of checking them out had certainly occurred to him.

Indy's eyes narrowed. "That isn't the point, Henry," he growled. "You deliberately left this suite without telling your mother or me where you were going and you knew that wouldn't have been okay with either of us! Didn't you?"

Mutt nodded. "Yes, sir," he admitted, honestly. What else could he say? Of course he'd known if his parents knew he'd left they'd flip their tops…if not blow them completely.

Indy nodded, glad to see the boy wasn't trying to worm his way out of any punishment he had coming.

_Should I punish him?_

The thought sprang up so suddenly it almost startled him. He and Marion had just gotten through talking about how he didn't need to be jumping the boy's case all the time, but the kid do something he knew was VERY wrong. Torn, he sighed.

"I really don't know what to do here, son," he admitted to the boy.

Mutt's eyes widened a third time at this admission from his old man. "You don't?" he asked, surprised.

Indy shook his head. "Honestly," he told him, unfolding his arms and shrugging, "no I don't. I don't want to be like my father—who when he wasn't ignoring me due to his research was jumping my case about every little thing I did—_however, _the "father" part of me wants to turn you across my knee and blister your butt for scaring me half to death!"

"Oh," Mutt said, biting his lip. "So, what are you gonna do?"

Indy sighed. "For starters," he said, closing the gap between them, "this."

Grabbing him by his shoulders, he pulled the boy into a tight—relieved—hug.

Mutt was a bit surprised at this at first, but then returned the hug. He was still getting used to having his father in his life, and though it embarrassed him to admit it he really did enjoy the feel of the old man so close to him. It was comforting in a strange sort of way, to know that he didn't have to be the man of the house anymore or worry about his mom, either. He could be a kid, and leave all that "dad" stuff to…well, _his dad._

"And secondly," Indy said, pulling away after several seconds, "this." He spun the boy around and delivered five sharp smacks to his jean clad rear end.

_SMACK! SMACK! SMACK! SMACK! SMACK!_

Mutt yelped, spinning back around, and glaring at the old man.

Okay, he took back what he just thought.

Having a dad _sucked_!

"That," Indy told him, pointing a reprimanding finger at him, "was for scaring me out of twenty years of my life. Believe me, kid, when you get to be my age you need every year you can get."

Despite his stinging butt, Mutt couldn't help but grin at that. "So," he said, jokingly, "you're saying in about ten years I get the house, the car, and the fedora. Right?"

Indy smiled. "I'm saying," he said, reaching out to grab a hold of the kid's skin, "that if you pull any more stunts while we're here I will personally yank those jeans of yours down and blister your bare _ass! _Got it, Junior?" He leveled him with a _very_ stern look.

Mutt's nodded, vehemently. "Are you gonna tell Mom?" he asked. He could well imagine the ear full he'd get from his other parent. She could make his ears hurt without even laying a finger on them.

Indy thought a moment. "Not unless you decide to," he told him. "While I think some things she and I will discuss concerning you, something like this is between you and me, son—and it stays between us."

Mutt nodded, relieved. "Okay," he said, for lack of anything better to say.

Indy nodded. "Why don't you go get a shower right fast," he told him, "and then come back in here? Your mom wants to wait on breakfast, so I thought maybe we'd play some chess. Do you know how to play?"

Mutt nodded. "Ox taught me," he told him, a little surprised at this turn of events. He wasn't being sent to his room or getting his backside blistered? Had the old man lost what few marbles he'd had left?

Indy smiled. Harold Oxley was a brilliant archeologist and linguist, but he literally stunk when if came to chess—which was ironic since he came from the country that more or less invented the game. "I'm pretty sure I can still teach you a thing or two," he told him. "Go on, and I'll set up the board."

Mutt nodded, not about to look a gift horse in the mouth when he presented itself. He hurried to his room.

Indy then walked back into his and Marion's bedroom, and saw that his wife was once more sound asleep. Quietly, he went to the small suitcase he'd brought along that had a few of is more personal travel items in it. Along with several research books, a few mementos from his various travels, there was also the worn chess board his father had presented him on his tenth birthday.

The board had been in the Jones' family for nearly five generations—having been brought to America by his dad from Scotland. He intended to pass it on to Mutt sometime in the future, once he and the boy's relationship wasn't so rocky.

Going back out, he set the board up and waited a few more minutes for his son. Growing impatient, he decided to go hurry the kid up a little bit. Going into the kid's room, he stopped and stared at the sight of the boy slumped onto the bed, sound asleep with one boot on and one off.

Indy chuckled. "You sure are lucky I'm such a softy," he said, shaking his head at the slumbering boy.

Going over, he removed the other boot and then the kid's t-shirt and jeans. Leaving him in nothing but his underwear, he picked the boy up—no small feat seeing as how the kid was nearly as tall as him—and then pulled back the covers to lay him on his pillow. Mutt stayed asleep the entire time, his night on the town obviously wearing him out so completely.

"Sweet dreams, son," Indy whispered, and then in a moment of pure spontaneous paternal affection bent down to kiss his son's forehead. "I love you."

He made the mistake of waiting thirty years to say those words to Marion; he wasn't going to make the same mistake with his son.

Pulling the covers tight, he quietly exited the room.

He then went and played himself in chess.

_I really am a lucky man._

TBC…

(A.N—sorry about not warning you about the smacks, but I wanted what he was going to do be a bit of a surprise. I hope it was, more or less. Thanks for reading and please review. It's appreciated.)


	7. The Snob

Indiana Jones

_**Indiana Jones**_

_**and the **_

_**Honeymoon Adventure**_

Summary: Indy runs into a couple of old friends. Mutt runs into some BIG TROUBLE. Paris may never be the same again.

Author's Note: Mutt is just fifteen. Sequel to: Indiana Jones 4: 1952 Version.

Warning: spanking later on.

Disclaimer: I don't own Indiana Jones or any of these characters. They belong solely to George Lucas, Steven Spielberg, and Paramount Pictures.

Chapter 7: The Snob

It turned out that Short Round had taken a position as a Curator at the _Louvre_ museum and so of course he wanted to give his mentor/foster father a tour of the place.

As they traveled down the corridors examining the various pieces of art and history, Indiana and Short Round walked side by side, with Little Indy in between his papa and "Unca" Indy holding both their hands. Willie walked beside her husband and Marion beside hers. The two teenagers, Mutt and Freddie, walked directly behind each of their parents…making certain to keep a certain amount of distance between them.

They were just going around a corner when Mutt spotted something he had only ever seen in history books before…Leonardo Da Vinci's _Mona Lisa_.

_Wow_, he thought, _I ain't no art expert but that's just plain awesome!_

Up until now, the tour had been pretty boring. He had ignored what Shorty was telling everybody about the pieces they'd seen so far, and had actually been keeping his eyes open for any means of escape.

_Yeah, right, _he thought to himself, _Pop would tan your hide for sure then._

"That's the Mona Lisa," a familiar voice spoke behind him. "It was painted by Leonardo Da Vinci."

Turning around, he saw that it was Freddie Williams, who had pointedly ignored him the entire time they'd been here. The brown haired girl was actually wearing a pair of blue jeans and a flowery blouse that was just right for her. It almost made her pretty, he guessed.

He gave her a withering look. "I knew that already," he told her, rolling his eyes. "I do go to school, you know." _Or I did until they kicked me out_, he added silently to himself. He wasn't about to tell _her_ that, however.

Freddie bit her lip. "Oh, sorry," she said, hesitantly, "I just thought…" She blushed, realizing what she had been about to say was completely rude.

"Thought that since I looked like a greaser," he finished for her, crossing his arms and glaring, "that I must be a dumb drop out or something?"

She blushed even more. "It was a rude assumption," she admitted. "I'm sorry, Mutt." This time when she said it, she actually didn't sound like she was being sarcastic.

He nodded, uncrossing his arms. "Look, Freddie," he said, smirking. "I think we may have got off on the wrong foot last night. Do you think we could…maybe…start over?"

She smiled at him, a genuine smile at that. "Sure," she said. "I'd like that."

"Me, too," he said, returning her smile. "So, I guess you've been here a million times, huh? With Shorty working here, I mean?"

She nodded. "I actually started coming here before that," she admitted. "This was one of my dad's favorite places to bring me. He was something of a history buff and so this was one of the things he and I did together…before." Her eyes grew sad at the thought of her late father.

Mutt grimaced. "I'm sorry about what happened to your dad," he told her, sympathetically. "Did you resent your mom marrying Shorty? I mean, him not being that much older than you and all? I probably would have been."

To his surprise, she shook her head. "No," she told him, "actually, I wasn't. I saw how sad and lonely Mom was after Dad was killed. When Shorty came into the picture, she was happy again. That made me happy, too. I don't really think of him as my stepdad, though. More like a big brother…or an uncle maybe."

He nodded. "I guess he's sorta like my big brother, too," he said, "since Dad all but raised him."

Freddie grinned. "It's pretty weird, huh?" she asked. "I mean, he's like your big brother and my little brother's like your dad's grandson, but both our mothers are almost the same age and both were involved with your dad."

Mutt smiled. "Parents are just messed up, aren't they?" he asked, smirking.

She nodded. "Yeah, I guess they are at that," she said, and they both laughed.

"I do not see what is so funny about this painting," a sharp voice spoke, ceasing their laughter.

Turning, they saw that a boy about a year older than they was staring at them. He was tall, with sandy blonde hair and watery blue eyes. He would have been handsome, except for the sneer that lined his mouth. He wore expensive clothes, and obviously was used to looking down on other people.

Mutt noticed Freddie rolled her eyes. "What are _you_ doing here?" she asked, obviously recognizing this guy.

The sneer deepened. "That, Winifred," he told her, his nose practically sticking up all the way in the air, "is none of your concern, but if you must know Dr. Ram has agree to tutor me…since _someone_ else wouldn't." He leered at her, in a most ungentlemanly way.

Freddie's eye flashed fire. "I told you, Belloq," she said, coldly, "I'd sooner tutor a monkey than the likes of you."

The sneer widened. "Aren't you going to introduce your friend," the boy said, gazing a Mutt almost predatorily.

Freddie sighed. "Henry Jones III," she said, "this is Rene Belloq, Jr."

"It's Mutt," Mutt said, automatically.

Belloq grinned, his eyes roaming up and down taking in the motorcycle jacket and boots.

"How appropriate," he commented, his nose again turned up.

Mutt really wanted to knock the guy's teeth in then, unfortunately a voice stopped him.

"There you both are," Shorty said, coming around the corner, "your mothers were worried. Come on, we need to catch up with them." He gazed momentarily at the third teenager, but didn't give him a second thought.

Both Freddie and Mutt were relieved to have an excuse to get away from the other teen.

"See you at school, Winifred," Belloq said, grinning as if they were the best of friend, "and perhaps we'll meet again, _Mutt."_

Mutt snorted. _Yeah, right. Hell will freeze over first, jerk._

He and Freddie started following Shorty back to where he'd left Indy and the others.

"So," he whispered to the girl, "who was that jerk?"

"A snob," she exclaimed, "that goes to my school. His uncle's some rich aristocrat or something like that. He thinks he can do or say whatever he likes just because he's the school's golden boy."

"Why's that?" he asked, curious. He hadn't seen anything special about the other kid, himself.

"He's the fencing champion," she told them, "and for our school that's the equivalent of being the star of the football team in America."

Mutt snorted. "I could take that guy, no sweat," he said, proudly.

After all, he was fencing champ, too.

Freddie rolled her eyes. "Boys," she muttered, and then stalked up beside her step father in a huff.

Mutt was confused.

_What did I say?_

TBC…

(A.N—By the way, if you were trying to get a better picture of what Freddie looks like just picture Natalie Portman in your head. She was inspiration behind the character.)


	8. The Ram

Indiana Jones

_**Indiana Jones**_

_**and the **_

_**Honeymoon Adventure**_

Summary: Indy runs into a couple of old friends. Mutt runs into some BIG TROUBLE. Paris may never be the same again.

Author's Note: Mutt is just fifteen. Sequel to: Indiana Jones 4: 1952 Version.

Warning: spanking later on.

Disclaimer: I don't own Indiana Jones or any of these characters. They belong solely to George Lucas, Steven Spielberg, and Paramount Pictures.

Chapter 8: The Ram

Shorty, Freddie, and Mutt were nearly to where he'd left Indy and the others when he suddenly stopped in his tracks. The two teenagers stopped with him, confused.

"What is it?" Mutt asked, curious.

"Damn," Shorty swore, "I'd hoped that _he_ wouldn't cross our paths today." He was glaring at a young man about his own age who was talking to Indiana.

Mutt scratched his head, wondering what it was about the well-dressed, spectacle wearing, obviously Indian descended person that his older foster brother so put out.

"Who is he?" he asked, next.

"An ass," Shorty said, simply. This earned him a shocked expression from Freddie, who'd never heard her stepfather swear before and a smirk from Mutt. "Come on; let's go see what bull he's feeding Indy." The three of them headed towards the older archeologist/adventurer.

"There you are," Indy said, catching sight of them, "where were you?" He gave Mutt a pointed look, the little stroll he'd taken the night before not yet forgotten.

"We just stopped to look at the Mona Lisa," the boy explained, looking at the teenage girl for support, "Right, Fred?"

Freddie raised an eyebrow at the name, but didn't say anything. "That's right," she said, smiling sweetly (_too sweetly_, in Mutt's opinion). "I was trying to explain the cultural significance of the painting to him."

Indy grinned. "Easier said than done, sweetheart," he told her. "We Jones men have heads like rocks and it takes some might long pounding to get anything through to us. Right, guys?" He leveled Shorty and Mutt with a look, both blushing a bit.

"Dr. Ram," Shorty said, nodding his head at the well dressed Indian man.

"Dr. Quan," The man said, inclining his head.

"I was just explaining to Dr. Jones what an admirer of his I've always been," the Indian man was saying, smiling an unfriendly smile at Shorty.

"Yes, he was," Indy said, "and for the life of me I can't quite remember where it is he and I have met before." There was something oddly familiar about the young man, a little too familiar.

"I was just a boy the last time you saw me, Dr. Jones, " Dr. Ram said, "and you, the then Miss Scott, and Dr. Quan here didn't really appreciate the delicacies of my table." He smiled, wolfishly.

Indy's eyes widened. "The Maharajah," he exclaimed. "That was you!?"

He nodded. "Yes," he said, "though I was never really one. It was something my father and uncle devised to keep the Kali cult a secret."

"Father?" Indy asked, confused. "Did I meet him, too?"

Now the man's eyes turned down right cold. "Yes, you did," he said. "I believe the last time you saw him he was falling into the river being swarmed with crocodiles."

Indy gulped. "Mola Ram," he all but whispered, the very memory of the high priest of Kali sending shivers and chills down his spine.

Dr. Ram nodded. "Yes," he said, sadly. "My father was a misguided man, Dr. Jones. He used me as no father should ever use a son, as a tool or weapon. Unfortunately, he was still my father." He fell silent then, and no one else spoke.

"Perhaps its time for some lunch," Marion suggested, breaking the stalemate of silence. She wasn't quite sure what was going on here, but she knew her husband well enough to know that it wasn't good.

Shorty nodded, eagerly. "Yes, I believe it is," he said, grinning. "Dr. Ram, if you'll excuse us."

The man's wolfish smile was back. "Of course," he said. "A friend as asked me to tutor his ward for him, anyway. I must see to him now. Good day to you, Dr. Jones."

"Uh," Indy said, hesitantly, "you, too."

The Indian man nodded, and then headed off in a different direction than they. Everyone was relieved, except Little Indy who really hadn't been paying attention to his papa and "Unca" Indy, instead he'd found the wax leaves of a plant rather interesting. In fact, he was trying to see if he could bite through it.

"Well, that was certainly awkward," Willie said, then shivered. "Just the memory of that man gives me goose-bumps. I can't believe that was his kid!?"

"You said it, Honey! You said it, Doll," both Indy and Short exclaimed at the same time.

Mutt grinned, shaking his head. "I think you should start calling him 'Junior', Pops," he told his father. "He's more like you than I'll ever be."

Indy chuckled. "He'll always be Shorty to me, kiddo," he told him, ruffling his hair, "and you'll always be my Junior."

Mutt glared, reaching into his back pocket to get his comb. "Lucky me," he grumbled, fixing his pompadour back in place.

Indy just chuckled. "Come on," he told everyone, "let's go grab some grub. I'm suddenly starving."

"Just no monkey brains!" Willie and Shorty exclaimed at the same time, both laughing when they realized what they'd said.

Indy laughed to.

Little did the little family realize, but a certain French teenager and a certain Indian doctor of antiquities were watching them go, along with an older gentleman with a very 'sinister' expression on his face.

"We have big plans for you, Dr. Jones," the older man said, cryptically. "Big plans, indeed."

TBC…


	9. The Summons

Indiana Jones

_**Indiana Jones**_

_**and the **_

_**Honeymoon Adventure**_

Summary: Indy runs into a couple of old friends. Mutt runs into some BIG TROUBLE. Paris may never be the same again.

Author's Note: Mutt is just fifteen. Sequel to: Indiana Jones 4: 1952 Version.

Warning: spanking later on.

Disclaimer: I don't own Indiana Jones or any of these characters. They belong solely to George Lucas, Steven Spielberg, and Paramount Pictures.

Chapter 9: The Summons

It was a sunny day in Paris, the perfect day to go shopping. At least, in Marion's opinion it was, and she had said as much to her husband and son—both of whom just looked at each other in horror at the thought.

"Don't worry," she'd told them, hands on her hips, "you two don't have to come. Willie and Freddie are going with me. We figured you two and Short Round could look after little Indy."

Since this idea appealed to them more so, they readily agreed. A few hours later, a very dirty quartet of males walked back into the hotel suite after having spent the afternoon at a nearby park playing (of all things) baseball.

"I can't believe we came all this way just to play baseball," Mutt said, grinning. He plopped down onto the sofa and put his feet up onto the coffee table. For once he wasn't wearing his leather jacket or motorcycle boots; instead he was wearing a very dirty white t-shirt and a pair of high-top sneakers.

"It was fun, though," Short Round said, plopping down beside him and putting his feet up also. "I haven't had that much fun in a long time."

He was wearing his old baseball cap and his old jersey that his foster father had bought him when he'd outgrown the old one when he was fifteen. He was also wearing blue jeans and sneakers. He looked very different from the tuxedo wearing doctor of archeology that he'd been the night they'd met.

Mutt smirked. "Even when you and Willie are…"

"Hey, hey," Indiana, who had sat down and pulled little Indy into his lap, growled, "none of that. There are innocent ears present." He promptly covered up those innocent ears to show his point.

Mutt just grinned at his father. "He's gonna have to learn about the birds and bees sometimes, Pops," he told him, smirking.

Indy raised an eyebrow at that. "Just what do you know about the birds and bees, Junior?" he asked. "Because if I find out you've…"

"Are you kidding me?" Mutt scoffed. "Mom would cut it off before you even got the chance to."

Indy grinned. "Yours and mine both, son," he said, smirking. "Let's not go there, shall we?"

"Yes," Short Round said. "I'd rather not have Indy asking awkward questions just yet…especially since I'm not sure Indy could answer them." He smirked at his foster father.

"Me?" Indy exclaimed. "You're his father, Shorty! And both of you get your feet off that table!" He glared at his two "boys", giving them a pointed look.

Mutt and Short Round looked at each other, smirked, and said, "Yes, _Dad._" They did, however, do as they were told.

Indy just glared and then chuckled. Looking down, he found that little Indy had fallen asleep, which is probably why he hadn't objected to having his ears covered. "He sure is a hyper little fellow," he said, wistfully. He had missed out on this time with Mutt, and he hadn't known Shorty when he was this little, he vowed he would be there for his grandson.

_Grandson?_ He thought to himself. _Now where did that come from?_

"I guess we're gonna have to start calling you Gramps, huh old timer?" Mutt asked, smiling.

Indy glared at him. "You do, Junior," he warned, sternly, "and I'll tan your hid 'til you can't sit down for a year! Got me?"

Mutt rolled his eyes. "It was a joke, Dad," he said.

"Though a pretty accurate one," Short Round observed. "You are the only father I've ever really had, Indy."

Indy smiled at the younger man. "Thanks, Shorty," he said, regretfully, "and I'm sorry I never did make _it_ official."

_Another regret_, he sighed. _I seem to be collecting those lately. _

Short Round just shrugged.

"You raised me and taught me what mattered most in life," he told him, sincerely. "I don't need your name to know who did that."

Indy felt his heart swell with renewed love for the man…his (he smirked) eldest child. "Thanks, son," he told him. "That means a lot, Short stuff."

Short Round blushed. "You know I'm not so short any more, right?" he asked him, slightly embarrassed at the nick name.

"You know it don't matter, right?" Indy threw back at him. "Like I told Mutt, you'll always be a short-stuff to me, just like he'll always be kiddo."

"Gee," Shorty and Mutt said at the same time, "lucky us."

Indy just laughed at them. "Get used to it," he told them, shifting little Indy in his lap so that the child would be more comfortable.

A knock on the door sounded then, causing the three still awake to look at it in confusion.

"Could that be Mom?" Mutt wondered, curious.

Indy shrugged, getting up and handing little Indy to his father. "If it is," he said, "we'd best not keep her waiting out in the hall way. She'd kill us." He went to the door and opened it.

He found two large, burly men dressed in suits and fedoras. "Dr. Jones," the one on the right said.

Indy nodded. "Yeah, that's me," he said, "what can I do for you."

"You, your son, and Dr. Quan are to come with us," the man said, smiling coldly. "Our employer wishes a word."

"Now," the second man spoke, pulling a hand gun from behind his back and aiming it at Indy's gut.

Indy looked at Short Round holding little Indy and then at Mutt. He nodded. "We're coming," he told them. "No need to get your shorts in a twist." He beckoned the others to follow him and then headed out the door.

_Great,_ he thought, _even on my honeymoon I can't get a break._

TBC…


	10. The Quest

_**Indiana Jones**_

_**and the **_

_**Honeymoon Adventure**_

Summary: Indy runs into a couple of old friends. Mutt runs into some BIG TROUBLE. Paris may never be the same again.

Author's Note: Mutt is just fifteen. Sequel to: Indiana Jones 4: 1952 Version.

Warning: spanking later on.

Disclaimer: I don't own Indiana Jones or any of these characters. They belong solely to George Lucas, Steven Spielberg, and Paramount Pictures.

Chapter 10: The Quest

Indy, Mutt, and Short Round were escorted into the study within a posh Parisian mansion that sat on a hill over looking the Eiffel Tower. Little Indy, who thankfully remained asleep the entire ride over, was sleeping just outside watched over by the pair of goons that had brought them there. Indy had made certain to warn them that if _anything_ happened to the little boy no place in the world would protect them from him.

They seemed to get the message.

Three men waited inside, two of them the three members of the Jones' family recognized. One was Rene Belloq Jr. and the other was Dr. Mal Ram. The third man was Indy's age, and while he looked somewhat familiar to the older adventurer he knew he'd never seen him before.

"Hello, Dr. Jones," the older man said, smiling. "I do hope my men didn't startle you?"

Indy raised an eyebrow. _Why did that sound so familiar to him?_

"Who are you and what's this about?" Indy asked, crossing his arms and glaring.

"Straight to the point," the man said, his white teeth showing again. "To answer you first question my name is Joseph Donovan. I believe you were acquainted with my father, yes?"

Indy's face drained of color. Donovan had been the man seeking the Holy Grail, and who had died when he let his greed consume him and he chose the wrong cup to drink from.

"I knew him all right," he said, "and he got just what he deserved."

Joseph Donovan raised an eyebrow. "I'm quite sure he did," he said, smiling coldly. "My father was a shrewd man, even with me, and he never allowed anything--even his own wife and son—to come between his goals and desires. My mother was quite devastated when he died, I'm afraid, and she committed suicide shortly afterwards."

"I'm sorry to hear that," Indy said, sincerely. "I only met her once, but she seemed like a nice lady."

"She was," Donovan said, again with that cold smile plastered on his face. "Now to the reason I have asked you here. I need your help, Dr. Jones, in finding one of the most sacred objects within the history of the world."

"What's that?" Indy asked, raising an eyebrow.

"The Tapestry of the Fates," Donovan told him, smirking. "You've heard of it, I'm sure."

Indy scoffed. "That's nothing but a legend, Donovan," he growled. "A myth, nothing more."

"I assure you, Dr. Jones," Dr. Ram spoke for the first time, "it is no myth. I have collected the clues that have led us to believe that we have found the entrance to the Temple of the Fates."

"Uh, question?" Mutt asked, interrupting, "but what the hell is the Tapestry of the Fates?"

Young Belloq snorted. "Simpleton," he sneered at the American teen, "don't they teach anything in those schools of yours?"

Mutt bristled. "Come a little closer, wise guy," he snarled, "and I'll show you." He would have taken a step forward, but his father's arm stopped him…as did the murderous glare Indy sent his way.

Donovan smirked at the two teens antics. "The young these days," he said, sighing. "To answer your question, Mr. Jones, the Fates were said to be three women…"

"The Maiden, the Mother, and the Matriarch," Indy supplied, knowing the legend by heart.

Donovan nodded. "That's right," he said, "One was a young girl, one was a middle aged woman, and the other was older lady. Two of the three were blind, the Maiden and the Matriarch, because they spun and cut the threads of life—human life, that is. The Mother was the only one who could see because she weaved the threads into the Tapestry that controlled the destiny or "fates" of everyone in the world."

"The one you can find the Tapestry," Indy told his son, "will be able to reshape their destiny or remake the world to suit their purposes. Is that about right, Donovan?"

The man smiled. "You're very quick, Dr. Jones," he said, grinning. "Very quick indeed."

"Uh huh," Indy said, skeptically. "What's their involvement in all this?" He nodded to the two other behind the man.

"Young Mr. Belloq," Donovan said, "is my ward…after his father's untimely death, which I believe you witnessed as well, his poor mother was unable to care for him. Since I was a good friend to Rene Belloq, I took him in and raised him. He is the finiest swordsman in France. Dr. Ram is the one who has found the clues that have directed us to the location of the Temple of the Fates. All that is required is for someone to go in and get the tapestry for us."

"You mean you've already found the location of the Temple?" Indy asked, curious. Usually in these situations, he was sought because someplace needed to be found.

"We have," Donovan said, smiling.

"Then what the hell do you need me for?" Indy asked, outraged. "I'm on my honeymoon, for crying out loud!"

"Finding the Temple was the easy part, Dr. Jones," Donavon said. "Getting to the Tapestry is the tricky part. Within are three corridors, all three filled with booby traps designed specifically to test the very young, the adult, and the very old. You, your son, and your foster son are the male equivalents of the Fates themselves: the boy, the young father, and the patriarch."

Indy crossed his arms and glared at them. "So are the three of you," he threw back, his jaw setting squarely.

Now, Donavon showed his true colors. "Yes," he said, smiling wickedly, "but I am—like my father, Dr. Jones—a very shrewd business man and a good business man _never_ takes a risk he doesn't have to. You three will enter the Temple of the Fates for us and retrieve the Tapestry."

"If we refuse?" Indy asked, glaring.

"You won't," he said, and snapped his fingers.

Through another door, Marion, Willie, and Freddie were escorted in. Neither of them looked particularly happy at the moment; in fact, they all looked down right pissed off.

"There had better be a damn good reason for interrupting my honeymoon," Marion snarled, glaring first at the three well dressed men and then glaring at the still dirty men of her family.

"Oh, there is, honey," Indy told her, "believe me, there is."

Donovan smiled cruelly. "I'm sure you get the message, eh Dr. Jones?" he asked.

Indy glared. "Yeah, Donovan," he said, through gritted teeth, "I get the message." Short Round and Mutt nodded in agreement with him. They got the message, too.

"Good," Donovan said, "then we can begin our quest immediately."

Indy nodded; his eyes hard. He clenched his fist at his sides.

_Give me the chance, you bastard, and I'll show you what a quest with Indiana Jones is really like!_

TBC…


	11. The Brawl

Indiana Jones

_**Indiana Jones**_

_**and the **_

_**Honeymoon Adventure**_

Summary: Indy runs into a couple of old friends. Mutt runs into some BIG TROUBLE. Paris may never be the same again.

Author's Note: Mutt is just fifteen. Sequel to: Indiana Jones 4: 1952 Version.

Warning: spanking later on.

Disclaimer: I don't own Indiana Jones or any of these characters. They belong solely to George Lucas, Steven Spielberg, and Paramount Pictures.

Chapter 11: The Brawl

They left Paris and took a plane to Rome, Italy.

From Rome they took a plane to Crete Island in Greece.

They would take a ship from Crete to Greek mainland.

From there, they would take a caravan to wherever the hell this Temple of the Fates was supposed to be.

Mutt was beyond ticked off…he was down right PISSED!

Not just at their captors, either…but also at his old man.

He couldn't believe how cowed Indy was, at how he didn't even so much a put up a fight.

_He could have at least punched a few guys out before giving up,_ he grumbled to himself as he sat beside his mother and the old man on the plane to Crete.

Short Round, Willie, and Freddie sat across from them. Little Indy had remained in Paris, watched over by Mrs. Donovan—who surprisingly had a couple of kids of her own.

Joseph Donovan, Mal Ram, and that snot-faced Belloq sat across the isle from them in the small private plane that belonged to the shrewd business man. Armed guards were posted at the rear of the plane, as well as by the entrance to the cockpit.

No one spoke the entire time. Marion and Willie slept for the most part, slumbering comfortably against their husbands' arms, while Freddie read a book she had brought along. He, the old man, and Short Round just stared at nothing—all of them seemingly lost in their own thoughts.

He wasn't sure what the old man and his older foster brother were thinking, but Mutt was thinking up ways for them to escape—the only problem was each of them didn't end too well and so he scratched that idea off and started again.

Man, it just burned him up that the old man hadn't put up a fight.

_He's goin' soft on us,_ he thought, sourly. _Even if he's got the fedora and the whip, it's just for show._

Indy was indeed wearing his fedora, khaki clothing, leather jacket, and bullwhip. He hadn't been permitted to bring his revolver with him, but with all the guns Donovan had at his disposal he probably wouldn't have any trouble getting a hold of one if he needed it.

Short Round was dressed similarly to his foster father, except that he carried a pair of Sai in his boots instead of bullwhip. He too carried a revolver with him, though like Indy he hadn't been allowed to wear it.

Mutt just wore his regular gear: leather jacket, motorcycle boots, and tucked into one of them was his switchblade—which the old man was nice enough to give back to him before they'd left.

"Don't get it out unless it's absolutely necessary, Junior," Indy had warned him before they'd boarded the plane.

Mutt had rolled his eyes, and started to ask just what entailed "absolutely necessary", but the old man had held up his hand and gave him a stern look.

"I mean it, Henry," Indy had said, sternly, "take it out for any reason other than your life being in mortal danger and I will blister your bare backside 'til you can't sit down. Do you understand me?"

Mutt's eyes had widened at the threat, knowing he was completely serious about it and had nodded. "Yes, sir," he'd promised, and then they had been ushered onto the plane so there was no more time for talk.

The plane landed in Crete and they were escorted, at gunpoint of course, to the ship that was to take them to the Greek mainland.

"No tricks of any kind, Dr. Jones," Donovan warned Indy.

Indy nodded, though his fists were clenched. "No tricks, Donovan," he repeated, through gritted teeth. "Trust me."

The man smiled, cruelly. "I don't trust anyone, Dr. Jones," he told him. "A lesson I learned from my father—and one you didn't, I believe."

Mutt wanted to knock the guy's teeth in then, but more than that he wanted his dad to knock the man's teeth in.

_Come on, old timer,_ he thought hopefully, _show some back bone, will ya?_

Indy, however, had turned away then and headed towards the cabins that he was supposed to share with Marion and Mutt.

Mutt clenched his fist and growled. What the hell was wrong with him!? Why wasn't he giving these goons the same kind of treatment he'd given the Russians!?

"It seems the legendary Indiana Jones isn't as terrific as he is made out to be," a sneering voice said from behind him. "Eh, _Mutt?_"

Spinning around, Mutt found himself face to face with Rene Belloq Jr. The snobbish teenager was wearing khaki clothing and carried a short sword on his back, as well as a dagger on his belt. He probably thought it made him look tough, but Mutt just thought it made him look ridiculous.

"What do you want, Belloq?" Mutt growled at the older teen. "Don't you have sword practice or something?"

Belloq smiled, sensing the tidal wave of anger just underneath the surface. "You greasers are all the same," he said, smirking. "Quick to anger, yet there is very little real fight within you. Much like your father."

"You don't know anything about my dad," Mutt growled at him, getting up in the arrogant teen's face, "so just back off and shut the hell up!"

Belloq, however, didn't appear in the least big afraid. "I know enough," he told him. "My father and he were rivals in just about everything—they even competed for the affections of your mother, if can believe that."

Mutt's eyes narrowed. "How'da ya know that?" he asked, angrily. His blood was beginning to boil and he knew it wouldn't take much to go off on the snobbish French boy.

"I've read my father's journals," Belloq said, "or I did when I was a child—at bedtime, like a story. It made me feel closer to him, somehow." There was an odd note to his voice, almost as if he truly missed his old man.

Mutt softened a bit, then, knowing what it was like to grow up wondering what your dad was like. He'd been lucky, as he'd gotten to find out for himself what Indy was like but Belloq's old man was dead. He'd never get that chance.

Of course, the other teen had to go and ruin it by saying. "That's how I know your father is all talk and no show," he said, arrogantly. "Just like you."

That did it! Mutt was steamed and he needed to let loose. Before he really knew what he was doing, he was diving on top of the older boy knocking them both to ground. They began a brawl that would have rivaled anything their fathers had ever gotten into quite nicely.

Like to old pros, they got in a few well aimed punches and kicks before disengaging and lunging to their feet to square off. Without thinking about it, caught up in the moment as he was, Mutt bent down and grabbed his switchblade. With a flick of his wrist, he sprang the blade and prepared to do battle.

Belloq's hand went for his dagger, pulling it free. The two of them stood facing off, waiting for the other to make his move.

The brawl would have taken the next level up into a down right knife fight, if a pair of hands hadn't descended on the combatants shoulders. Donovan's hand rested comfortably on Belloq's shoulder, causing him to look at his guardian guiltily.

Indy's hand rested on Mutt's shoulder, causing the boy to bite his lip. He didn't have to see the look on his father's face to know he was in serious trouble now.

"Rene forgets himself sometimes, Dr. Jones," Donovan told Indy, smiling.

"Just like his father," Indy said, eyeing the French teenager sternly.

"Yes," Donovan said. "Rene did always let his arrogance get the better of him. I assure you, this won't happen again."

"Trust me," Indy said his eyes on Mutt. "It won't."

Mutt cringed, as the switchblade was unceremoniously yanked out of his grip.

"Come on, son," Indy said, turning and heading back to the cabin he had come from.

"We need to have a chat."

Mutt winced.

_Yeah, _he thought as he followed after his old man, _the hand-smacking-my-ass kinda chat, right Pops._

He was so dead.

TBC…


	12. The Whipping

Indiana Jones

_**Indiana Jones**_

_**and the **_

_**Honeymoon Adventure**_

Summary: Indy runs into a couple of old friends. Mutt runs into some BIG TROUBLE. Paris may never be the same again.

Author's Note: Mutt is just fifteen. Sequel to: Indiana Jones 4: 1952 Version.

Warning: spanking later on.

Disclaimer: I don't own Indiana Jones or any of these characters. They belong solely to George Lucas, Steven Spielberg, and Paramount Pictures.

Chapter 12: The Whipping

(Warning: spanking scene—with a belt—in this chapter. Don't like, please don't read.)

Mutt trudged along behind his father, warily. He knew he was in for it, and he deserved it, but he was still just so _mad_ at his dad for not fighting these bastards!

They entered the cabin they were all supposed to share. Marion had just finished unpacking the few items of clothing they had been allowed to bring along. She took one look at her husband, at her son, and knew something wasn't right with either of them.

"What happened?" she asked, worried. "Did something happen?"

Indy snorted. "Our son," he said, glaring at the boy, "decided to pull one of his old man's kind of stunts and use his fists to solve a problem instead of his head. He almost got into a knife fight with that brat Belloq!" He held up the confiscated switchblade.

Marion's eyes widened and she turned on her son, her eyes blazing. "Henry Jones!" she exclaimed. "Are you out of your mind? What were you thinking!? You could have been shot…or worse!" There was fear, as well as anger, in her voice but she didn't care. Her son meant too much to her to lose him to his own foolishness.

Maybe it was because he'd been having a tough day, or that he was just too mad to think clearly, but Mutt decided to defend himself a little bit. "At least I'm _did_ something," he growled at his mother, glaring at his father as well. "The two of you are just rolling over and doing what they tell you to do! Jeeze, Mom, has married life gone and made you a dopey housewife already!?

Marion recoiled at his words, as if she'd been slapped. The wound her son had just inflicted on her heart at his words shown in her eyes as clear as day. Tears welled up in them, but she refused to shed them…although, she desperately wanted to.

Mutt realized the moment the words were out of his mouth that they were a mistake. "Mom, " he started to say, but was cut off by his father.

"Marion," Indy told her, going and wrapping an arm around his beloved wife, "will you go check on Short Round, Willie, and Freddie for me? Make sure they're not being harassed or anything like that?"

Marion nodded, still too hurt by her son's words to speak. Indy kissed her by way of thanks and she headed into the cabin beside their own that the other three members of their "party" were staying.

The moment she was gone, Indy rounded on his son with fire nearly blazing in his eyes. "You," he growled at him, "can take your anger out on me all you want to, Henry, but don't you EVER speak to your mother like that again! Do you understand me?!"

Mutt involuntarily stepped back, uncertain how to handle the anger radiating off his old man. "Dad," he stammered, "I didn't mean…"

Indy cut him off. "Maybe not," he said, and then pointed toward the door Marion had just gone through, "but you couldn't have hurt your mother more just now if had slapped her across the face." He sighed, scrubbing his face with his hands in exasperation.

Mutt bit his lip, unable to say anything to that.

Indy held up the switchblade. "What did I tell you no more than a handful of hours ago when I gave this back to you?" he asked his son, pointedly. "Huh, Junior?"

Again, Mutt bit his lip without speaking. They both knew what he'd been told, so there was no point in repeating it back to him.

"A fist fight between two pig headed brats is one thing," Indy continued, angrily, "but drawing knives is something completely different, especially when you're the one to draw first!"

Mutt sighed. "I'm sorry, okay?" he growled. "I just don't understand why you're not putting up one hell of a fight like you did in the Amazon!"

Indy growled, throwing the switchblade against the wall. "Dammit, Henry," he said, "that isn't the point!"

Again, Mutt stepped back away from his father's wrath.

Indy sighed. "You know what?" he asked, shaking his head. "I was just gonna tan your bare behind for the fight, but I see now what you really need is a good dose of my father's brand of child rearing." He reached and started to take off his belt.

Mutt's eyes widened. "D-Dad," he squeaked out, "No!"

Indy's eyes were as hard as flint. "Yes," he growled. "Not only did you disobey a direct order, but you've been downright rude and _more than_ disrespectful to both me and your mother. I'm not gonna stand for that, Junior. Not now, not ever. Now, c'mere."

His feet feeling like lead, but knowing it was no use to argue further, Mutt obeyed.

"Drop your pants," Indy ordered sternly, "and bend over the bed."

Mutt's eyes widened at the order, but he moved to obey. His hands shaking, he unfastened his jeans. Letting them and his underwear fall to the floor, his face reddening in embarrassment, he bent down over the bed as his father as asked. He closed his eyes and waited for the first blow.

Indy stared at his son, memories of himself being in this position as a boy coming back to him, and he felt his heart lurch into his throat. He had promised himself he would _never_ treat his son the way his father had treated him, but he saw now that Mutt was just like him, in practically every way, and while his father's punishments had HURT they had also taught him valuable life lessons…as well as a good healthy dose of respect for his old man at those times.

Gripping his belt so tight his knuckles turned white, he raised it back. A single tear escaped his eye and rolled down his cheek as he brought it down across his son's bare backside with a resounding _crack!_

Mutt hissed as the sting that first smack of the belt caused, but he bit his lip and refused to make any further sound.

_**CRACK! CRACK! CRACK! CRACK! CRACK!**_

Those five smack left his butt a bright pink and caused a slow burn to begin. He still refused to utter a sound.

_**CRACK! CRACK! CRACK! CRACK! CRACK!**_

Mutt bit harder on his lip. His butt felt like it was on fire now, and he was sure it was a nice shade of red. He felt tears begin to sting his eyes, but he wouldn't let them fall.

_**CRACK! CRACK! CRACK! CRACK! CRACK!**_

Sobs had begun to bubble up within him, as his butt was throbbing something awful now, and he was trembling from holding them in.

"It's all right, son," he heard Indy whisper to him, "I know it hurts. Don't try and be a man about this. Go ahead and let it out. It's about to be over." He raised his belt back one more time.

_**CRACK! CRACK! CRACK! CRACK! CRACK!**_

Those last five smacks of the belt undid Mutt's carefully tight control. His knees buckled out from under him and he began sobbing into the bedspread underneath him. He hears something crash against the same wall that his switchblade had gone flying against earlier and managed to look up enough to see it was his father's belt.

Indy, tears falling down his own face, knelt down and gathered his boy up and pulled him against his chest. He would be damn if he did what his old man had always done and just left him lying there, sobbing his guts out, without even bothering to comfort him. He had always heard the expression "it'll hurt me more than it'll hurt you" and now he knew that was very true. That had been pure agony for him, even though he had known it was necessary.

Mutt sobbed against his father's chest. "I'm sorry," he said, meaning it. "I'm so sorry, Dad." He hadn't meant to hurt his mom and certainly hadn't meant to make his dad do something that was so painful for him that it made _him_ cry, too.

"Shhh, son," Indy told him, rubbing his back with one hand and wiping his own tears away with the other, "it's over now and we're not going to say another word about it."

Mutt nodded, and continued to cry into the old man's chest. His butt was throbbing something awful!

After a few more minutes, Indy pulled him back and looked him squarely in the eyes. "Mutt," he told him, "I know it seems like I'm just giving into them and doing what they want, but that's not it at all. I have six people counting on me to protect them and right now I have to do what these bastards say in order to do that."

Mutt looked at him in confusion. "Six?" he asked, puzzled.

Indy nodded. "Yes," he said. "You, you mother, Shorty, Willie, Freddie, and even Little Indy back in Paris. I don't give a damn what happens to me, Mutt, but the five of you I intend to make sure you all get back in one piece."

"We were in just a much danger in the Amazon with Spalko's goons," Mutt reminded him. "That didn't stop you, then."

Indy nodded. "I know," he said, "but in that situation I saw right away that both you and your mother could handle yourselves. Now, Shorty can do all right in a fight, but Willie and Freddie I'm not too sure about. I promise you, I'm not just rolling over and dying because these SOBs say so, son. When the time is right, _I am_ going to do something but in the mean time I have to play passive aggressive here. Do you understand?"

Mutt nodded. "Yeah, I do," he said, feeling guilt coil in his gut. "I'm just didn't understand."

Indy nodded. "I know," he said, standing up. "Here, get up and let's fix those pants before someone comes in and gets a gander at that rear end of yours."

Blushing, as he had forgotten that his pants and underwear was still down, he got up and pulled them into place. He winced as the cloth came into contact with his throbbing posterior. "That hurt like he…" He started to complain, but the barest uplift of Indy's eyebrow had him correcting himself quickly, "…ck!"

Indy smirked. "Be glad it wasn't your granddad," he told him, sincerely. "He'd have laid into you with his razor strap and believe me…that thing HURTS. You might not be seating for a few hours from my belt, but I couldn't sit down for a week after my old man got through with me."

Mutt winced. "Yikes," he said, reaching back to rub his "tender" rear end.

Indy grinned, but then frowned. "You owe you mom an apology," he told him, seriously. "You know that, right?"

Mutt nodded, fiercely. His mom was the last person in the world he had wanted to hurt, so he was definitely going to apologize for the awful thing he'd said to her. "Yes, sir," he said, nodding.

Indy sighed with relief. "Good," he said. "How about you and me lie down and get us some shut eye while we can."

"Uh," Mutt said, looking hesitantly at the bed he'd just been bent over.

Indy chuckled. "You lay on your stomach," he told him, lying down and patting the other side of the bed.

Mutt nodded, and crawled onto his stomach. Rising up on an elbow, he looked at his old man and asked, "So, Pops, what did you do to earn the strap?"

Indy smirked at him. "Well," he said, scratching his stubble, "When I was thirteen I stole my teacher's boxer shorts and flew them up the school's flagpole."

Mutt's eyes widened in disbelief. "No way," he said, laughing. "You're kidding me, right?"

Indy held up two fingers. "Honest to God truth," he said, smirking. "See, he was this real strict S.O.B and none of us liked him. Well, this friend of mine dared me to do it so I waited until he went into the bathroom. Then, I crept in and crawled til I found what stall he was in. I reached in and yanked his pants and undies right out from under his feet. He only saw my hands, so I knew he wouldn't know who I was. I hightailed it out of there, leaving the pants mind you, and went right out to the flagpole."

Mutt was laughing so hard by now he had tears in his eyes again. "How'd you get caught?" he asked, curious.

Indy shrugged. "The principal saw me," he said. "Man, Dad got an earful from him for that one and then I got it good when I got home."

"Did the teacher do anything to you?" Mutt asked, curious.

Indy winced again. "Sure did," he said. "Lit my backside up with his paddle, but I was still the hero of the class. I had girls practically throwing themselves at me after that."

Mutt grinned, shaking his head. "You really are one crazy old man," he said, sleepily.

Indy nodded, smiling. "I'm _your_ crazy old man, remember?" he asked, teasing.

Mutt nodded, laying his head down on his hands. "Yeah," he said, his eyes closing. "Lucky me."

Indy just chuckled, ruffling the boy's hair. He knew he was already asleep as he didn't groan the action or try to fix his hair. Pulling the fedora down over his eyes, he wrapped a protective arm around his slumbering boy and went to sleep.

Marion came back in a few minutes later and the sight of the two of them made her heart glad and tears spring to her eyes. "Oh, you two," she said, shaking her head at them. "What am I going to do with the two of you?"

Sighing, she then went and joined them on the bed, lying down on the other side of Mutt. Reaching over, she also placed a protecting arm around her son and rested her head on her husband's strong arm. She was soon asleep as well.

The three Jones' slept on, uncertain what lay ahead of them, but knowing that no matter what it was they would face it together…as a family.

TBC…


	13. The Match

Indiana Jones

_**Indiana Jones**_

_**and the **_

_**Honeymoon Adventure**_

Summary: Indy runs into a couple of old friends. Mutt runs into some BIG TROUBLE. Paris may never be the same again.

Author's Note: Mutt is just fifteen. Sequel to: Indiana Jones 4: 1952 Version.

Warning: spanking later on.

Disclaimer: I don't own Indiana Jones or any of these characters. They belong solely to George Lucas, Steven Spielberg, and Paramount Pictures.

Chapter 13: The Match

They made it to the Greek mainland, and began the next leg of their journey by way of a military caravan. Unfortunately, bad roads slowed their progress and finally they were forced to camp for the night due to storm-damaged trees blocking the roads. While his men got to work clearing it, Donovan and the others made camp; or rather, his men did while they all sat around and watched.

Indy and his family had been left alone, except guarded to make certain they didn't try anything for the most part. They had stayed in their cabins throughout the rest of the voyage by water and had so far managed to keep out of the way of Donovan and his goons.

"I still wish we didn't have to sit here," Mutt grumbled, sitting on a log next to Freddie. "This stinks."

The girl nodded. "Yeah," she said, "it does, but at least they're treating us decently enough. They could have us tied up without any food or water."

"They knew if they did that," Mutt told her, "Dad, Shorty, and me wouldn't be able to get through the Temple traps alive…and they aren't about to risk their sorry asses to get their hands on that stinkin' Tapestry."

Freddie sighed. "I wish there was something I could do," she said. "Our moms are being so brave about all this. I just want to cry and scream."

Mutt put his arm around her, and she leaned in close to him…that alone told him how much this was upsetting her. "We're going to make it through this," he assured her. "Dad is going to think of something and when he does…these bastards aren't going to know what hit them."

Freddie smirked at him. "You have a lot of confidence in your dad," she said. "I figured you'd still be sore at him about the other day."

Mutt blushed, reminded about the whipping he'd gotten from his old man. "Believe me, I'm plenty sore," he said, wincing, "but that's beside the point. You ain't ever seen the old guy in action. He's amazing!"

Freddie grinned. "You make him sound like some super hero," she observed, knowingly.

Mutt blushed again. "Well," he said, shrugging, "I just look up to him, that's all. Is there anything wrong with that?"

She shook her head. "Of course not, Mutt," she said, leaning in and kissing him on the cheek. "In fact, it's quite touching. It shows you love him very much. That's the way it's supposed to be between father and son."

Mutt blushed a third time, from her kiss. "Yeah," he said, ducking his head in embarrassment, "I guess."

She grinned, and lifted his chin. "Well, I _know_," she said, and then got up to go help her Mom and Marion who were attempting to wash some of their things nearby.

Mutt stared after her, amazed. "Wow," he said, feeling butterflies in his stomach.

"She is beautiful, no?" a French accented voice spoke behind him.

Turning, he glared at Rene Belloq Jr. "Yeah, she is," he growled, standing up. "What do you want?" He crossed his arms and glared at the boy. Their fight the other day was far from forgotten and certainly _wouldn't_ be forgiven.

The French boy held up a pair of foils. "You fence, yes?" he asked. "I thought perhaps you'd care to go a few rounds?"

Mutt raised an eyebrow. "Why?" he asked, coldly.

Belloq shrugged. "None else knows how except Uncle Joseph," he said, "and he is too busy. I need to practice and well…I'm bored!"

Mutt smirked. "You're bored?" he asked. "You have the run of the whole camp, how can you be bored?"

The French boy shrugged. "I just am," he growled at him. "Will you fence with me or not?"

Mutt smiled, shrugging out of his jacket. "Let's go," he said, holding out his hand for a foil, "but you'd better not cheat!"

The French boy looked insulted as he tossed him the second foil. "I would never," he said, seemingly shocked at the very idea, "besides; if anyone would cheat it would be you!"

Mutt glared at him for that. "Why's that?" he asked. "Because I'm an American or because I'm a greaser?"

"Both," the French boy told him, sneeringly. "Now, let's begin." He moved to a clearer spot and went immediately into a fighting stance.

"Hold up a minute," Mutt said, following him, "how about we have a friendly wager?"

The French boy raised an eyebrow. "What sort of wager?" he asked, suspiciously.

"If I win," Mutt told him, "you give me fifty bucks."

"And if I win?" Belloq asked him.

"You won't," Mutt told him, smirking.

The French boy returned the smirk. "If I win," he said, thinking, "you have to do something for me?"

"Like what?" Mutt asked him, just as suspiciously.

"Um," Belloq seemed to think it over, "you must sneak into the tent where the keep the supplies and get me a beer."

Mutt raised an eyebrow. "Mind if I get me one too?" he asked, snorting at the idea.

"Of course," Belloq said, "we will toast my victory together."

Mutt smirked, getting into a fighting stance. "We'll see," he said, though he was sorely tempted to lose on purpose just to have to do the dare.

_Yeah, and Pop'll roast your backside again!_

Belloq attacked first, with a side swipe to the cheek. Mutt countered it easily and attacked with an abdomen slice that the French boy easily avoided. "You are very good," the other teen observed, "but I'm better."

"Yeah," Mutt sneered, blocking yet another attack, "at being a windbag!" He attacked with an over head swipe.

"Better than that," the French boy sneered, "than a mutt!"

Mutt growled, attacking with just a bit more viciousness. Unfortunately, the ground around their feet wasn't so stable and he ended up tripping over a tree root. He fell, and his foil went flying. He found himself on the ground with Belloq standing over him, his foil pointed at his neck.

"I win," he declared, bluntly. "Do you concur?"

Mutt was going to argue, to say he'd cheated, but the truth was he was glad he won. "Yeah," he said, "I concur."

"Good," Belloq said, surpringly holding out a hand to help him up, "now you can go get us those beers."

Mutt dusted himself off. "Why don't you just go get it yourself?" he asked him. "I mean, it's not like anyone is going to stop you?"

"Actually," Belloq said, "Uncle Joseph gave strict orders I'm not to drink. He says I need to remain alert at all times." He rolled his eyes, showing just what he thought of that.

Mutt smirked, knowing he'd have felt the same way. "You know," he said, "I got my butt blistered for that fight the other day, while you got off without even being yelled at."

"You're wrong," Belloq said, wincing. "Uncle Joseph did yell…and more." He reached up to rub his jaw, as if someone had hit him.

Mutt was stunned. "He decked you!" he exclaimed, shocked to the core.

Belloq nodded. "Yes," he said, "though I am used to it. He's done it before."

Mutt couldn't believe it. Sure, his old man had taken his belt to him and tanned his hide with it, but he would _never_ hit him across the face or beat him with his fists. That just wasn't right, no matter who it was done to.

"That's awful," he said, pity for the French boy welling up in him.

Belloq shrugged. "It's nothing," he said, shrugging it off. "As I said, I am used to it, but that is why I can not risk angering him further."

Mutt nodded, understanding. "I guess if anyone deserves a drink," he said, "it's you. Where are they kept?"

Belloq grinned. "Follow me, " he said, sticking his foil into the ground point-down.

Mutt nodded, and followed him.

_I must be nuts, _he thought, _but this just might be fun!_

TBC…


	14. The Truth

Indiana Jones

_**Indiana Jones**_

_**and the **_

_**Honeymoon Adventure**_

Summary: Indy runs into a couple of old friends. Mutt runs into some BIG TROUBLE. Paris may never be the same again.

Author's Note: Mutt is just fifteen. Sequel to: Indiana Jones 4: 1952 Version.

Warning: spanking later on.

Disclaimer: I don't own Indiana Jones or any of these characters. They belong solely to George Lucas, Steven Spielberg, and Paramount Pictures.

(Warning: a _small_ spanking scene in this chapter between Indy and Belloq Jr.)

Chapter 14: The Truth

Mutt followed Belloq to the tent where they were keeping the supplies. As he followed, he was berating himself on the stupidity of this idea.

_You're outta your mind, Jones, _Mutt thought to himself, _not only are you going to help an arrogant S.O.B like Belloq but Pop is gonna roast your ass for this one…and it's still recovering from the last roasting!_

Mutt shook his head, stubbornly. Sure, it was a stupid idea and more than likely he'd get caught, but what else was there to do? They were in the middle of a Greek forest, on their way to an ancient Temple where he, his father, and his older foster brother were supposed to traverse three perilous traps in order to find some old rug for that sadist Donovan so that the man could remake the world to suit him.

_Jeeze, _he continued to talk to himself, _how conceited can a guy get?_

Again, he shook his head to clear it of such thoughts. He needed to focus on the matter at hand, which was grabbing a couple of brewkies outta that tent without getting his head blown off by a trigger happy mercenary.

"I will go talk to that guard," Belloq told him, grinning. "You go around back to enter the tent?"

"Where's the other guard?" Mutt asked, suspiciously. He knew Donovan had two guards for every thing, so there should be one more.

The French boy shrugged. "Perhaps nature called," he said, grinning.

Mutt rolled his eyes at him. "Yeah," he agreed, "I guess when you gotta "go" it ain't too important to worry about guarding no supply tent." He smiled even more when Belloq threw him a withering look.

The French boy then made his way over to the remaining guard while he made his way to the back of the tent. Looking to make certain no one was around; he quickly lifted up the back and quickly dove inside. The tent was dark and cool, a relief from the humid air outside, and he quickly got to work trying to locate where the hell they kept the long necks.

He had just found them, unfortunately, when the sound of a gun being cocked was heard and he felt a barrel being pressed against his neck. "Get up slowly, boy," a rough voice ordered him. "No sudden movements."

Hands up, Mutt obeyed. Turning around, he got a glimpse out the tent flap and noticed that the one guard was still outside talking to Belloq.

_Guess I now know where the other was, _he thought to himself. _Nature did call…in the form of a midmorning snack._ There was a half eaten sandwich and a long neck sitting near by, so that was how he knew what the guard had been up to.

"Move," the guard ordered, jerking his head in the direction of the tent flap. He pressed the barrel of his gun a little bit harder against the teenager's neck.

"All right," Mutt said, "I'm going." He rolled his eyes at the man and then began to make his way out of the tent.

Belloq and the other guard were surprised when they came out, so that at least told him the other boy hadn't squealed on him or something.

_It's not like he'll help me out either, _Mutt thought bitterly to himself. _That's what you get for trying to help an arrogant brat like him._

With both guard now pointing their guns at him, he was marched to the center of the clearing where a shout rang out to the main tent. Donovan and Ram, along with Indy and Shorty, came out to see what the ruckus was about. They had been in there explaining the layout of the Temple of the Fates, to give them a better understanding of how to survive the three tasks.

Mutt's eyes widened when he saw not only his father, but also his mother. Marion had come at the sound to see what the matter was; concerned that he might have been hurt. That fear only grew when she saw two guards with guns pointed at her baby!

"What's going on here?" Donovan demanded, annoyed.

"The boy, sir," one of the guards said, pointing his gun at Mutt, "was in the supply tent. Trying to steal something."

"My son's not a thief," Marion exclaimed, hotly. She looked like she was about ready to punch someone. Mutt was glad it wasn't him.

"Is that true, son?" Indy asked him, raising an eyebrow. He didn't believe Mutt would steal either, but the kid was a teenager and teenagers did do crazy things for no reason sometimes…

Mutt bit his lip. "I was just thirsty," he told him, shrugging.

"He was trying to steal a beer," the guard that had caught him said.

Mutt rolled his eyes. _What were you doing, Sherlock?_

Donovan sighed. "I do not have time for these stupid matters," he growled, "although it seems more drastic measures are going to have to be taken to show your son the seriousness of this situation, Dr. Jones." Indy, Marion, and Mutt all three turned white at this. What did he mean?

"Uncle Joseph," Belloq Jr. stepped forward, "this is my fault—not Mutt's."

Mutt looked at him in pure surprise, as did everyone else.

"What do you mean, Rene?" Donovan asked, narrowing his eyes at his ward.

"I made him do it," the French teenager said. "I wanted a beer and I made him go get me one."

"Made him?" Donovan rolled his eyes. "What did you do? Stick a sword against his throat?"

"Well," Belloq said, shrugging, "Yes."

"What!" three voices exclaimed at the same time, causing both boys to wince.

"It was a fencing match," Mutt explained to his parents to calm them down. "We made a bet and I lost."

Donovan sighed. "I've had about enough of these stupid contests, Rene," he told his ward, and then before anyone could react he backhanded the boy hard across the face.

"Hey!" Indy exclaimed, angry. "That's no way to treat a kid!"

He was mad enough in that moment to go after the man despite all the guns surrounding them.

Donovan turned on him coldly. "Very well, Dr. Jones," he said, sneeringly. "Since you seem to know how a "kid" is supposed to be treated, I'll let you deal with this. Just return to the main tent when you're done. We still have several more charts to go over before we continue in the morning." He then turned and headed back into the main tent, taking Dr. Ram with him.

Indy walked over and held out his hand to the French teenager, who had been knocked to the ground by the force of the blow to his cheek. "Here, kid," he said, "let me help you up."

Unfortunately, Belloq didn't really appreciate his help. Muttering something _very _rude in French, he slapped his hand away and said, "I can get up on my own, thank you."

Indy raised an eyebrow at that, as the boy picked himself up off the ground, and then turned to his wife. "Marion," he said, calmly, "why don't you and Shorty take Mutt back to our tents. I'll be there in a minute to talk to him." He leveled his son with a pointed look, which he winced at.

Marion nodded, smiling sweetly at Mutt. _Too sweetly._ He immediately knew he was as good as dead right then.

"Come on, sweetheart," she said, latching onto his ear. She then began pulling him by the ear back towards their tents.

"Ow!" Mutt exclaimed, his face reddening in embarrassment. "Mom!"

"Of all the stupid…" Marion began scolding him as he was drug along. The rest of her tirade was cut off as they rounded a tent and disappeared from view.

Shorty chuckled at this. "Better him than me," he observed dryly to Indy. "I'll just go make certain she doesn't pull it off, okay?" Indy nodded and he headed in that direction.

Now that his family was gone, Indy turned back to Belloq Jr. "Where's your tent?" he asked, crossing his arms.

The French boy glared at him, but nodded. "Over there," he said, rubbing his cheek. "Why?"

"We're gonna have little talk," Indy told him, heading in that direction. "C'mon."

Glaring at his back, the boy followed. Once inside the kid's tent, Indy pointed to his cot. "Sit," he ordered, immediately upon entering.

"You forget yourself, Dr. Jones," The French teenager sneered.

Indy raised an eyebrow. "Actually," he said, evenly, "it's you who forgets. Your guardian told me to deal with the situation…so, I'm dealing with it. Now, sit down!" He grabbed the boy and gave him a slight shove, causing him to land perfectly on his butt on the cot.

"Now then," Indy told him, "I'm getting a little tired of you getting my son into trouble."

Belloq opened his mouth to argue, but Indy cut him off even before any words poured out of his mouth.

"Believe me," he told him, "I know for a fact Mutt can get into plenty of trouble on his own, but this makes the second day in a row he's in for it with me and his mother and both times you were involved."

Belloq just glared. "He lost the bet fair and square," he muttered, sourly.

"I'm sure he did," Indy told him, crossing his arms, "but there shouldn't have been a bet at all. His idea, I take it?"

Belloq nodded. "How did you know?" he asked, curious.

Indy smirked. "It wouldn't be the first time," he said, chuckling.

The French kid sighed and stood up. "Dr. Jones," he said, wearily, "you hated my father and I know you hate me, too, so just go ahead and do what you're going to do to me." He looked as if he was ready to get his face pounded.

_Probably is, _Indy thought, _after what Donovan did to him._

"He's hit you before, hasn't he?" Indy asked him, referring to the boy's guardian.

Belloq just shrugged. "I am used to it," he said, hesitantly.

"No, you're not," Indy growled, "and you shouldn't have to be. No kid deserved to get hit, punched, or smacked across the face."

"You whip Mutt," Belloq pointed out, smugly.

"There's a difference," Indy told him, angrily. "The only part of his body that's comes into contact with something is his ass and believe me he might be sore afterwards but there is _never _a mark left on him…and he's back to his old self again in no time. What I do with Mutt is called discipline, kid, and what Donovan did there is abuse."

Belloq shrugged. "It isn't like anyone can stop him," he said, simply, "at least until I am of age."

Indy sighed. "Look, kid," he said, "I know that you think I hated your old man—and it's true that there wasn't any love lost between us—but I certainly don't have a reason to hate you and you _did_ stick up for my son out there. I'm not a bastard, and I don't beat children."

"Then what are you going to do?" the French teenager asked him, curious.

"I'm going to turn you across my knee and spank you," Indy told him, bluntly.

Belloq blushed red with embarrassment. "But I am too old…" he started to say, but was cut off once more.

Indy snorted. "Hardly," he said. "If he had been able to—and I'd done something to deserve it—my old man would have still tanned my hide while he was on his death bed…and I was fifty at the time! So, believe me, you aren't too old." He went and sat down on the cot.

"C'mere," he beckoned. "Let's get this over with so I can go have a chat with your partner in crime…or what's left of him after his mother gets through with him, that is."

Belloq grinned at that, but still didn't move. "Will you tell him I'm sorry?" he asked, hesitantly.

"You can tell him yourself later," Indy told him, firmly. "Now, c'mere."

Reluctantly, the boy came and Indy grabbed his arm to guide him face down over his knee.

_I really should bare his butt, _he thought, _but I've got the feeling this is the first spanking he's ever had._

He asked the kid as much. "Have you ever been spanked before?" he asked, gently.

The boy looked back at him and shook his head. "When I was younger," he said, "Uncle Joseph didn't pay attention to what I did…nobody else did, either."

Indy shook his head. What a lonely way to grow up…and least his dad _did_ notice him sometimes; even if only to wear his butt out for something he'd done. It may have only happened a few times when he was a kid, but he still knew that his dad cared enough about him _to_ do something when he did something crazy or stupid.

"Well, at the moment," Indy told him, "I _do_ care what you've been up to. So…" He trailed off, raising his hand back.

_SMACK! SMACK! SMACK! SMACK! SMACK! SMACK!_

The teenager whimpered as those first swats connected with his behind, showing that he really hadn't been spanked before now. Indy wasn't using half his strength.

_SMACK! SMACK! SMACK! SMACK! SMACK! SMACK!_

The boy had begun to cry now, shuddering because he was trying to stop himself from doing so.

"It's okay to cry, kid," Indy told him. "I always did when my old man spanked me."

_SMACK! SMACK! SMACK! SMACK! SMACK! SMACK!_

"P-Please, Dr. Jones," the boy stammered, sobbing, "enough."

Indy bit his lip, uncertain what to do. After what the boy had done, not to mention how rude he was to him, he really deserved a much harder spanking than what he'd just gotten but this was his first and Indy wasn't his father or guardian.

"All right, kid," he told him, letting him up off his lap, "it's over."

The blonde boy stood before him, looking every inch the disciplined child. There was, however, no fear in his eyes the way there had been when Donovan had struck him across the face. That alone told Indy that he'd done the right thing, that the kid knew he'd been punished but not beaten.

Standing up, he said, "You know, your old man really _was_ one hell of an archeologist."

"Really?" Belloq Jr. asked him, a note of pride in his voice. He was trying really hard not to reach back and rub his stinging behind, Indy noted.

Indy nodded. "Yeah," he said, "he just let greed get the best of him. He started caring more about the money than he did about the real treasure the artifacts possessed…and that's knowledge."

"Knowledge is power," the French boy said, quoting the old cliché, "or so they say."

Indy nodded. "But knowledge and power aren't everything, kid," he told him, gently. "There are some things more important."

"Like what?" the blonde boy asked, curious.

"Like family," Indy told him, "and friends."

"I don't have any family," the boy said, sadly, "or friends."

Indy smirked. "You'd be surprised, kid," he said, "just where you'd find them when you least expect to."

Belloq Jr. looked at him in surprised fascination.

Indy chuckled. "Why don't you ponder that for a while," he told him, patting him on the back.

With that, he exited the tent and headed for his own; leaving the French teenager to think about the truth of his words.

TBC…


	15. The Handful

Indiana Jones

_**Indiana Jones**_

_**and the **_

_**Honeymoon Adventure**_

Summary: Indy runs into a couple of old friends. Mutt runs into some BIG TROUBLE. Paris may never be the same again.

Author's Note: Mutt is just fifteen. Sequel to: Indiana Jones 4: 1952 Version.

Warning: spanking later on.

Disclaimer: I don't own Indiana Jones or any of these characters. They belong solely to George Lucas, Steven Spielberg, and Paramount Pictures.

Chapter 15: The Handful

As it turned out, Indy hadn't needed to have a "chat" with Mutt when he got back to the tent…Marion had already had one with him. He had entered to find his son, red faced and teary eyed, rubbing his stinging butt while his mother had stood there, tapping her foot, glaring at him, and holding her ornate silver hairbrush (one of the few possession she still had belonging to her long dead mother) in her hand.

Indy had taken one look between mother and son, started grinning, and then collapsed onto a nearby cot in helpless, almost hysterical—and relieved—laughter. Neither his wife nor his son appreciated this very much. In fact, Marion threatened _him_ with the hair brush if he didn't get outta there that very minute.

He had obeyed, but his laugher cold still be heard all the way back to the main tent. In fact, he was still chuckling about it the next morning as the caravan once more set off towards the Temple of the Fates. His son, naturally, didn't like this at all.

"Would you stop grinning at me like that," Mutt growled at him, sourly. "It ain't funny! That hairbrush hurt!"

Indy just grinned. "Would have preferred my belt?" he asked him, knowingly.

Mutt glared. "I'd prefer ya just ground me like normal parents," he grumbled, almost pouting.

Indy raised an eyebrow at him and glanced out the back of the truck they were riding in. "We're in the middle of a Greek forest," he said, "what and where are we going to ground you to?"

Mutt just glared at him, continuing to sulk in wounded indignity. "Ya just let me off the hook for a change," he told him.

Now it was Indy's turn to be indignant. "After the stunt you pulled," he said, "I don't think so, Junior! You should be grateful I didn't get a hold of you on top of what your mom gave you."

Mutt sighed. "Can we _please talk _about something else?" he asked, shifting uncomfortably on the hard bed of the truck. "What did you say to Belloq yesterday?"

"That's between him and me," Indy told him, bluntly. "If he chooses to tell you, that's his business but if he doesn't don't you dare go prying. Understand?" He leveled him with a stern look.

"Yeesh," Mutt said, rolling his eyes. "ya'd think _he_ was your son 'stead of me."

Indy raised an eyebrow at that. Surely he wasn't jealous, was he? Of Belloq Jr. Now he'd seen everything!

Scooting over closer to him, he wrapped an arm around the boy's shoulders.

"Hey," he told him, gently, "now, none of that."

Mutt looked at him. "None of what?" he asked, puzzled.

"Just because I pay attention to someone else doesn't mean I don't love you any less, Henry," he told him, gently. "You are and always will be my son and nothing is going to change that. Not Belloq, not Short Round, not even little Indy, okay? I just wish I had been there to see you when you were his age."

Mutt grinned. "I was a handful," he told him, smirking, "just ask Mom or Ox."

Indy chuckled at that. "I'm sure you were," he said, reaching out to ruffle his hair, "and you most definitely still are."

Mutt threw him a dirty look and once more took out his comb to fix his pompadour back into place.

"Would you stop doing that?" he grumbled, though he was smiling as he said it.

"Nope," Indy told him, "sorry. Can't do that?"

Mutt grinned. "Why not?" he asked, curious.

"Because there are two things a father absolutely HAS to do with his son," he told him. "The first thing is teach him how to pee in the toilet without missing…"

"I think I can handle that one on my own, thanks," Mutt said, rolling his eyes at him.

"…and the second thing," Indy told him, smirking, "is stick it to them every chance they get."

"Well," Mutt said, smiling, "you definitely GOT that down pact."

Indy laughed. "You better believe it, kid," he told him, laughing.

Suddenly, the truck came to an abrupt halt and the sounds of Donovan and his men getting out. Wondering what was going on, Indy and Short Round--who had been riding with them but had remained quiet while the father and son had shared their moment together--went to look out.

In the truck behind them, Marion and Willie did the same.

Donovan, Ram, and Belloq Jr. appeared with a group of men. "We're here, Dr. Jones," he told Indy, smiling wickedly. "We've arrived at the Temple of the Fates."

Indy, Mutt, and Short Round exchanged looks with each other.

_Here we go…again!_

TBC…


	16. The Promise

Indiana Jones

_**Indiana Jones**_

_**and the **_

_**Honeymoon Adventure**_

Summary: Indy runs into a couple of old friends. Mutt runs into some BIG TROUBLE. Paris may never be the same again.

Author's Note: Mutt is just fifteen. Sequel to: Indiana Jones 4: 1952 Version.

Warning: spanking later on.

Disclaimer: I don't own Indiana Jones or any of these characters. They belong solely to George Lucas, Steven Spielberg, and Paramount Pictures.

Chapter 16: The Promise

Donovan, Ram, Belloq Jr., followed by Indy, Shorty, Mutt, who were then followed by Marion, Willie, and Freddie all made their way from the caravan towards the Temple of the Fates.

The Temple was carved from the rock of a click, with large stone columns, in the Greek style of course, stood side by side along its front acting as massive stone guards. Ancient scenes of life within Greece during the time of the Fates were carved upon it. There were lovemaking scenes, war and battle scenes, and of course details of the Olympian gods as well.

"It's incredible, Indy," Shorty exclaimed, amazed. "This is a great archeological find."

"Yeah," Indy agreed, smirking, "too bad it wasn't you and me that found it, Short stuff."

Shorty grinned at that, but Mutt rolled his eyes. "How can you two be talking about archeology when we're about to die!?" he asked them, sullenly. He was scared, and when he got scared he got angry…much like his father.

Indy placed a hand on his shoulder. "Everything is going to work out, son," he told him, "you'll see."

"Now then, Dr. Jones," Donovan said, as they arrived at the stairs leading to the entrance of the temple. "Just as the designs show, once inside we will come to three doorways. You, your wife, and I will take the middle one. Dr. Quan, his wife, and Dr. Ram will take the one on the right. Mr. Belloq, your son, and Miss Williams will take the one on the left."

Indy glared him. "Why the women?" he asked, crossing his arms. "They could get hurt."

Donovan grinned wickedly. "Insurance," he said, and pulled out a pistol from behind his back, "just to make certain you don't pull any of your infamous 'tricks'." He reached over and yanked Marion to him before anyone could do anything about it. He twisted her arm behind her back, and put the gun to the temple of her heard.

She gulped. "No tricks, Henry," she said, her eyes wide with fear, "alright?"

Indy nodded, though his fists were clenched by his sides. "No trick, love," he told her. "I promise." He wasn't about to risk his wife's safety for any reason, he just hoped once inside an opportunity presented itself. He very much wanted to send Donovan to join his father…in Hell!

Dr. Ram pulled out a wicked looking dagger, curved in the Kriss style, and then stepped up to Willie. Grabbing her arm, he put the dagger to her throat and smiled cruelly (much the same as he father had once done) at Short Round. "I'll have your word as well, _Shorty,_" he told him, grinning.

Shorty would have gone for his sais right then and there, if Indy hadn't put a retraining hand on his arm. He nodded. "You have it," he growled. He wasn't about to risk his wife, either. Willie had never been what anyone would call "courageous" and it showed now as her eyes had doubled in fear.

"Rene," Donovan growled at his ward, "the girl!"

Belloq Jr. reached for the dagger at his belt, but hesitated. This was wrong, and he knew it.

"Now!" Donovan growled, his trigger finger twitching violently.

Biting his lip, he looked at Mutt and Freddie. "I'm sorry," he told them, sincerely.

Freddie nodded. "I know," she told him, stepping toward him so that he wouldn't have to pull her to him.

Mutt nodded, also. "Yeah," he said, fear for all of them making his voice quiver a bit, "we understand." He glared at Donovan, who was the real evil bastard in all this…him and Ram.

"Good," Donovan said, a smile once more adorning his face, "then let's go." He turned and began "escorting" Marion up the stairs to the Temple doors.

Ram followed after him, taking Willie with him.

Again, Belloq Jr. hesitated, uncertain what to do.

Freddie took his head. "Come on," she said, "we'd better catch up." She began leading _him_ up the stairs behind his guardian and the Indian archeologist.

Indy, Shorty, and Mutt stayed where they were for a moment.

"What are we going to do, Indy?" Shorty asked, concerned.

"We're gonna get through this," the older man told him, confidently.

"You sure about that, Pops?" Mutt asked him, fearfully.

Indy smirked at them. "Absolutely," he said, jerking his head towards the stairs, "let's go, boys." He started up the stairs, and they followed after him.

_I'm gonna get us outta this, everybody._

_I promise._

TBC…


	17. The Traps

Indiana Jones

_**Indiana Jones**_

_**and the **_

_**Honeymoon Adventure**_

Summary: Indy runs into a couple of old friends. Mutt runs into some BIG TROUBLE. Paris may never be the same again.

Author's Note: Mutt is just fifteen. Sequel to: Indiana Jones 4: 1952 Version.

Warning: spanking later on.

Disclaimer: I don't own Indiana Jones or any of these characters. They belong solely to George Lucas, Steven Spielberg, and Paramount Pictures.

(This chapter will be split between Indy's, Mutt's, and Shorty's POV.)

Chapter 17: The Traps

They entered the Temple.

Just as Donovan had said, as they walked through the archway beyond the doors they found three doorways leading to the left, the middle, and the right. "Very well then," the smirking business man said, "this is where we part ways…until we reach the inner sanctum, that is."

He gestured for Indy to go first. "After you, Dr. Jones," he said, keeping a firm grip on Marion's arm with one hand and the gun in the other.

Indy looked at Mutt and Shorty. "Be careful," he told them, "don't do anything stupid." He looked at Mutt at this, giving him a message with his eyes.

Mutt nodded, understanding.

Indy returned the nod, and then began walking carefully through the middle doorway.

"Come," Ram said, jerking Willie toward the door on the right, "let's go."

Shorty growled, but otherwise nodded. "Of course," he said, wanting nothing more than to whip out his sai and plunge one into the Indian ass's chest. However, since the man had a knife at his wife's throat, he didn't think he would. Instead, he headed through the right doorway with Ram and Willie following immediately behind.

Belloq, Mutt, and Freddie looked at each other. "Looks like we're on our own," he said, grinning. "No parental supervision."

Freddie rolled her eyes, stepping beyond Belloq's reach. "Only you would see the humor in this situation," she told him.

Belloq Jr. put away the knife, now that his guardians weren't there to see him. "I suppose we could always remain here and wait," he said. "That would be the safe thing to do."

"Are you kidding?" Mutt asked. "Where's the fun in that!?"

Belloq Jr. smiled. "You are right," he said, "let's go."

Together, the two of them headed into the door on the left.

Freddie sighed, following them.

_Boys!_

Indy made his way, very carefully. His eyes and ears constantly on alert for any sight or sound that may indicate a booby trap.

"Be careful, Henry," Marion told him, as she and Donovan made their way behind them. "I do not want to become a widow on my honeymoon!"

Indy smirked, and looked back at her. "Don't worry, hon," he told her, confidently. "You won't."

No sooner were the words out of his mouth, but he heard a distinctive click and ducked as something round and very sharp looking whizzed past his head. It embedded itself into a wall beside him. He looked back at Marion, sheepishly.

She raised an eyebrow at him. "You were saying?" she asked, sarcastically.

He grinned. "Yes, dear," he said, using the stereotypical husbandly response to a wife's reproving look. He turned and continued making his way down the tunnel, _even more_ carefully than before.

If the traps didn't get him, Marion certainly would when this was all over with.

In left tunnel, Short Round was being just as careful as his foster father in the center one. Keeping a sharp eye out, not touching anything; just as Indy had taught him all those years ago in India.

"You really are a fool," Ram was saying to him. "This could have been your discovery, instead of mine. All you had to do was take Donovan's offer."

Shorty growled. "Archeology isn't about the money," he told the arrogant man. "It's about the history and the knowledge."

Ram snorted. "Did _Indiana_ teach you that?" he asked, sneeringly.

Shorty swirled around, bringing his sais with him as he did so. "As a matter a fact," he told him, "he did."

Ram smirked. "You devotion to that old fossil is quite touching," he told him, "but it will do none of you any good. The Tapestry is ours!"

Shorty snorted. "Do you really expect Donovan to share?" he asked him. "If you do, then you're a bigger ass than I thought you were."

Ram growled, shoving Willie out of the way. A second dagger appeared in his hands. "Let's see if Indy taught you to fight," he taunted, "as well as he did everything else."

Shorty smirked. "You better believe it," he said, raising his own knives. "Let's go."

_This isn't so bad,_ Mutt thought as he, Belloq, and Freddie made their way through the left tunnel.

"Didn't Donovan say there were traps?" he asked the others.

Belloq and Freddie nodded. "Wee," the French teen said. "There are traps and at the end of the tunnel there is a test. You must pass the test to be allowed into the inner sanctum, where the Fates are."

Mutt nodded. "Okay," he said, eyeing the floor "be careful where you step. There could be traps in the floor."

They nodded, watching there feet as they stepped. They walked in silence for a few moments.

"You know," Belloq said, "I'm sorry about yesterday."

Mutt grinned. "S'okay," he said, though he winced at the memory of his mother's hairbrush. That thing _hurt!_ Maybe not as much as his father's belt, but still…it certainly left an "impression".

Belloq nodded. "You're father has a hard hand," he said, quietly.

Mutt and Freddie both looked at him, surprised. "He spanked you?" Mutt asked, grinning broadly.

Belloq nodded, wincing. "I did not take it too well," he said, embarrassed. "I bawled like a baby. It was my first spanking."

Freddie looked at him in pity, but Mutt just looked sympathetic.

"Man," he said, grasping his shoulder, "don't feel too bad. I bawl every time he's done with me."

"Really?" Belloq asked, surprised.

"Hell yeah," Mutt said, grinning. "He's got a hard hand, and his belt ain't no fun either."

Belloq grinned at this. "My ass still stings," he said, smirking.

"Mine, too," Mutt said, chuckling.

Freddie stared at them as if they had lost their minds.

_Boys!_ She thought, shaking her head. Unfortunately, she tripped and stumbled over a loose stone on the floor. Her hand went out automatically to grasp the wall beside her to keep her from falling further, and she heard something go click. She and the boys looked at each other, wondering what it was she had done.

There was a rumbling sound, and then Belloq shouted, "Look out, Mutt!" He dove and tackled the other boy out of the way as a giant spike suddenly plummeted down and embedded itself right where the young greaser had been standing.

Freddie gasped, going over to make sure they were all right. The two boys lay side by side in a tangle of limbs, both looking whiter than ghosts.

She winced. "Oops," she said, biting her lip.

Mutt and Belloq looked at her in exasperation before looking at each other.

_Girls!_

Ram was the first one to attack, wielding his daggers with deadly precision. Shorty blocked, using his sais as a shield against his blows. He then attacked, whipping the sais out and slashing at the other man with the sharp points of his knives.

They danced an ancient dance of blade against blade for several moments, showing off their impressive skills with the martial arts from their two native countries.

"You are good," Ram said, sneeringly, "but I am better." He attacked again.

Shorty blocked, easily. "Yeah, right," he said. "Remember, I gave you a fat lip before."

He attacked.

"We were only boys then," Ram said, blocking and kicking him in the side.

Shorty huffed, stepping back to catch his breath. "Now one of us is a man," he said, getting in close enough to his opponent to knee him in the groin, "and the other is eunuch." He smiled as the other man doubled over, dropping one of his knives to grab a hold of his crotch.

Unfortunately, as he went down on one knee he activated a booby trap. The floor beneath them began to rumble and suddenly slit open, going right between their legs.

"Shorty!" Willie exclaimed, afraid for her husband.

Shorty quickly put his sais away and got on one side of the divide, the safe side.

Ram wasn't so lucky. He attempted to leap to the shortened side, and lost his footing. His arms wind-milling he fell back, only to be saved by Short Round who managed to grab one of his arms.

"Stop wriggling," the Chinese man grunted out, "before you fall." The other man was slipping in his grasp and if they weren't careful he'd fall to his death.

Ram looked down, and then back up at Shorty. "Let go," he said, "before we both fall."

Shorty looked at him as if he were crazy. "Willie," he called to his wife, "help me!"

Willie's eyes were wide. "I-I can't," she said. She had flattened herself against the wall, unable to move. Ever since India and she'd been lowered down into that lava pit, she'd had a deathly fear of high places.

Shorty sighed, knowing this. "Give me your other hand," he told Ram, "and I'll pull you up."

"Don't be stupid," Ram said, "we'll both go down. Let go!"

"No," Shorty replied, stubbornly. He might not like the arrogant ass, but that didn't mean he wanted him dead, either. He wasn't heartless, after all.

"Shorty," Ram said, "it's the only way. You have a family, I do not. We have each followed in the footsteps of our fathers. It is the way it should be." He then jerked out of the other man's grasp and plummeted down to his death.

"No!" Shorty yelled, watching him fall.

"Shorty!" Willie cried out, afraid he was about to join him.

Shorty got up and went to her, pulling her into a hug. "It's all right, love," he told her. "I'm not going anywhere." He looked back as the floor slid back together. He shook his head.

_We followed in the footsteps of our fathers,_ he repeated his rival's words, _and I just wish you hadn't._

"Come on," he told Willie, "let's keep going. Indy'll be waiting."

She nodded. "And we don't want to keep Indy waiting," she said, leaning her head on her shoulder.

"He gets grumpy," Shorty reminded her, smiling. "You don't want to hear him bellyache, do you?"

She giggled. "I'll tell him you said that," she said, smiling.

Shorty pretended to be horrified. "Are you trying to get me in trouble?" he asked her, feigning indignity.

Willie just smiled. "Always," she said, kissing him.

Shorty smiled. "Good," he said, kissing her back.

_Just like his father…_

Indy had managed to avoid the other booby traps pretty well, only a few had posed a serious threat, but he'd dodged those all the same. He was tired, dirty, and irritable.

He was also worried about his boys. _Please, let them be all right._

"Are you all right, Henry?" Marion asked him, concerned.

Indy looked back at her and smirked. "Just a little winded, sweetheart," he told her. "Remember, I ain't as young as used to be."

Marion just grinned at him and rolled her eyes at him.

"Your reputation is well deserved, Dr. Jones," Donovan said, grinning at him. He had kept Marion close by him all this time, the gun in his hand apparent the entire time. He looked as fresh as he did when they started. There wasn't a scratch on him.

_Bastard, _Indy growled to himself.

He stopped. "I think we're here," he said, looking at what lay in front of him.

Donovan nodded. "Yes," he agreed, "now you must face the test."

Indy nodded, his face determined.

_Bring it on!_

TBC…


	18. The Riddles

Indiana Jones

_**Indiana Jones**_

_**and the **_

_**Honeymoon Adventure**_

Summary: Indy runs into a couple of old friends. Mutt runs into some BIG TROUBLE. Paris may never be the same again.

Author's Note: Mutt is just fifteen. Sequel to: Indiana Jones 4: 1952 Version.

Warning: spanking later on.

Disclaimer: I don't own Indiana Jones or any of these characters. They belong solely to George Lucas, Steven Spielberg, and Paramount Pictures.

(This chapter will be split between Indy's, Mutt's, and Shorty's POV.)

Chapter 18: The Riddles

Mutt, Freddie, and Belloq Jr. made it to the end of the left corridor. They had encountered a few other booby traps, but thankfully they had managed to catch themselves in time so that no one was hurt. They were all, however, scraped, bumped, bruised, and tired by now.

"We have made it," Belloq Jr. said. "This is where we face the test to enter the inner sanctum."

Mutt studied the door that blocked their path. It was made of solid marble, with ancient Greek writing etched into the center of it.

"What's it say?" he asked, curious.

Belloq Jr. grimaced. "I do not know," he admitted. "Dr. Ram never got that far in my Greek lessons."

"It says," Freddie told them, studying the piece carefully, "that 'I am one that does not have eyes but I see everything. I am one that has no legs yet goes everywhere. I have no arms but feel everything. I am nowhere yet everywhere at once."

The two boys just stared at her amazed, and she blushed. Shrugging, she said, "I read a lot."

Mutt grinned, and then looked at the door again. "It's a riddle," he said, "and I'm guess to get inside we have to answer it correctly."

"That is normally how these things work," Belloq Jr. said, "at least according to my father's journal's it is."

Mutt thought about what the riddle said, turning it over and over again in his mind. _What has no legs but can got everywhere? Has no eyes, but sees evrerything? Has no arms but can feel everything? Is nothing—Hey, wait a second! That's it!_

"The wind," he spoke, more to himself than to the others.

"What?" Freddie and Belloq asked him at the same time.

"The answer," he said, "it's the wind!"

No sooner had the words left his mouth, but then the ground began to rumble and the large stone door began slip beneath the floor.

"You did it!" Freddie exclaimed, excitedly. "You did it, Mutt!" She wrapped her arms around his neck and planted a kiss on his lips.

Mutt smiled brightly. _I could SO get used to this adventure stuff!_

Short Round and Willie had made it to the end of the right passageway, only to be confronted by a large stone marble slab blocking their way. "It appears to be a doorway," he explained, "more than likely leading into the inner sanctum."

"What's the writing on it?" Willie asked, curious.

Short Round took a closer look. "It's ancient Greek," he said, recognizing the language.

"Can you read it?" she asked him.

Shorty grimaced. "No," he said, his shoulders slumping. "Indy could, but I never learned it."

"Oh," Willie said, disappointed, "so what do we do?"

Shorty just shook his head. "I suppose we go back," he said, dejectedly. He turned around to do just that, when…

"Shorty!" Willie exclaimed, "look!" She was pointing at the stone slab.

Shorty looked, and his mouth dropped open in amazement. The ancient Greek symbols were changing, becoming English right before their eyes!

"I am lighter than air yet you can see me," Willie read the first line of the words.

"I am transparent yet you can see me," Shorty read the next line.

"I breathe yet I am not alive," Willie read the third line as it was translated.

"I destroy yet I do not mean to," Shorty read the last line.

"It's a riddle," Willie said, "but what does it mean?"

Shorty read back over it, thinking. Suddenly he smiled. "Fire," he said, almost shouting it. "The answer is fire!"

Suddenly the ground began to rumble and the slab began to sink into the floor.

"You did it, Shorty!" Willie exclaimed, hugging and kissing him.

"No, love," Shorty said, kissing her right back, "_we_ did it."

Willie just smiled brightly at him.

In the middle corridor, Indy was looking over the stone slab that blocked his path. It was obviously an ancient form of Greek, easy enough to read, but he was sure there was a catch somewhere.

_There always is, _he thought to himself. _There's always a catch._

"Well, Dr. Jones," Donovan impatiently inquired, "can you read it or not?"

Indy glared at him. "This ain't like trying to find Waldo in the mornin' paper, Donovan," he growled at him. "Hold your horses, and give me a minute to look it over." He scratched his stubble, thinking.

_Let's see, _he thought, _it says 'I am the giver and taker of life yet I am not alive' 'I am large yet can be smaller than the smallest grain of sand' 'I exist in all living things…_

Indy frowned, wracking his brain to find the answer. Single drop of sweat poured down his forehead to drop off the end of his nose onto his fingertip. He looked at it, staring at the tiny drop of moisture as if it were the most amazing thing in the world. That was it!

"Water," he mumbled, smiling brightly.

"What?" Donovan growled at him, annoyed.

Indy just continued smiled. "The answer," he said, pointing to slab in front of them, "is water!"

The moment the words were out of his mouth, the ground rumbled and the slab sank into the floor.

"You did it, Indy," Marion exclaimed, smiling brightly at him.

Indy just smirked. "Yeah, honey," he said, "I know." He shrugged, sheepishly.

_Wasn't like it was hard or anything, right?_

"Well done, Dr. Jones," Donovan said, nodding his head in approval.

Indy glared at him. "Now what?" he growled at the man.

Donovan smiled, wickedly. "Now," he said, "we go meet our Fates."

With a slight shove, he pushed Marion towards the entrance and gestured for Indy to go ahead of them.

_Meet our fates right? _Indy thought sourly to himself.

_You're gonna meet your fate all right. I'm gonna see to it personally._

TBC…


	19. The Fates

Indiana Jones

_**Indiana Jones**_

_**and the **_

_**Honeymoon Adventure**_

Summary: Indy runs into a couple of old friends. Mutt runs into some BIG TROUBLE. Paris may never be the same again.

Author's Note: Mutt is just fifteen. Sequel to: Indiana Jones 4: 1952 Version.

Warning: spanking later on.

Disclaimer: I don't own Indiana Jones or any of these characters. They belong solely to George Lucas, Steven Spielberg, and Paramount Pictures.

(This chapter will be split between Indy's, Mutt's, and Shorty's POV.)

Chapter 19: The Fates

Indy walked through the doorway, with Marion and Donovan right behind. Through a doorway on the right, the kids came through at the exact same time. They all looked a bit bumped up, but otherwise all right. The older adventurer breathed a sigh of relief.

"You all right, kid?" he asked his son, grinning.

Mutt nodded, grinning back. "How 'bout you, old timer?" he asked, smirking.

Indy grinned. "Oh, you know," he said, shrugging, "about the same."

"That's good," a voice spoke to their left, "because it wouldn't be a party without you." It was Short Round, who had come through the doorway on the left with Willie in tow.

"Where's Dr. Ram?" Donovan asked, pointing his gun at he Chinese man.

"Dead," Shorty told him, bluntly. "He got caught in one of the booby traps."

Donovan raised an eyebrow, and then shrugged. "Doesn't matter anyway," he said, coldly.

"How can you be so heartless?" Belloq asked him, stepping forward. "He was your friend!"

"He was a means to an ends," Donovan told him, "nothing more. Grow up, Rene."

Belloq Jr. looked ready to deck the guy, but Freddie and Mutt put their hands on his shoulders to steady him.

"He ain't worth it, man," Mutt told him.

"Besides," Freddie said, "he's the one still holding the gun."

Belloq sighed. "You are right," he said, quietly. "I hate you." This he directed at Donovan.

"Like I care," the man sneered. "Stay back here with them, or you'll be the next one to die." He moved past them, heading for the back of the chamber.

On a dais bathed in pale blue light, three women worked. One, a young teenage girl, spun a large spinning wheel, spinning thread. Beside her was a withered old woman with a pair of shears. She seemed to exam the thread as it was spun and clipped it every so often. They were both blind.

A third woman, around middle-aged worked a great loom…weaving the magnificent Tapestry of Fate into life. It was on her that the gun-carrying tycoon focused.

"It's incredible," Donovan said, "like nothing I've ever seen before." He moved to head up the stairs, but the old woman speaking stopped him.

"Do not come any closer, Joseph Donovan," the withered old woman said. "We know your intent and the Tapestry can not pass into such hands as yours."

"Old Lady," Donovan sneered, "I don't give a damn about you and your sisters, but the Tapestry _is_ mine!" He pointed his gun at the woman weaving, and fired.

The bullet struck her in the back. She stiffened, and then to all their amazement vanished.

"So much for Immortality," the cruel businessman sneered. He headed up the stairs for the loom. He had just gotten within a few feet of it when the sound of sheers being snapped together. He spun, to see the Matriarch clip a thread of life and wondered what poor smuck had just died.

He suddenly stiffened, his heart pounding out of his chest. Pain seared through him, and he knew. The thread of life that had been cut…had been his!

"No!" he cried, clutching his heart. "I-It's mine!"

"The Tapestry belongs to all men," the Maiden spoke.

"No one man may possess it," the Matriarch said.

Donovan cried out in agony one final time and then fell back onto the steps of the dais.

Indy and the other had watched this is stunned, horrified, fascination. The Fates could end a life with just a snip of a pair of scissors. Would they be next?

"Come forward," the Matriarch spoke.

"We mean you no harm," Indy called out to her. "We just want to leave in peace."

"We know," the Maiden spoke.

"But you can not leave," the Matriarch said, calmly. The moment she said this, all three of the doorways they had entered from closed.

Indy could tell his family was starting to panic. "Why may we not leave?" he asked the two remaining Fates.

"Because," the Maiden said, "one must stay."

"To take the place of our sister," the Matriarch replied, "one of them." She pointed her finger.

Everyone gasped.

She was pointing her finger at Marion and Willie.

TBC…


	20. The Sacrifice

Indiana Jones

_**Indiana Jones**_

_**and the **_

_**Honeymoon Adventure**_

Summary: Indy runs into a couple of old friends. Mutt runs into some BIG TROUBLE. Paris may never be the same again.

Author's Note: Mutt is just fifteen. Sequel to: Indiana Jones 4: 1952 Version.

Warning: spanking later on.

Disclaimer: I don't own Indiana Jones or any of these characters. They belong solely to George Lucas, Steven Spielberg, and Paramount Pictures.

(A.N—you might want to grab a tissue before reading this chapter. It's kinda sad. L )

Chapter 20: The Sacrifice

"What do you mean one of them has to stay?!" Indy asked, angrily. "There's no way in hell, sister!"

"Three there must be," the Maiden said, calmly still spinning.

"Always," the Matriarch said, firmly nodding her head.

"One to spin," the Maiden said, continuing to do just that.

"One to cut," the Matriarch said, holding up the shears.

"One to weave," they said at the same time.

Indy and the others looked at each other, not knowing what they were going to do.

Freddie stepped forward. "Let me stay," she spoke up, causing Willie to gasp and shake her head vehemently at her daughter's request.

"You cannot," the Matriarch said.

"The Mother weaves life," the Maiden explained. "Only one who as given life may take her place."

"Come on," Indy argued, desperate, "there's got to be another way."

"There is not," the two Fates spoke simultaneously.

Marion and Willie exchanged a look with each other, and both stepped forward at the same time.

"I should stay," they said together, and then looked at each other again.

"Willie," Marion argued, "you have a family to think about!"

"So do you," Willie argued back. "Indy and Mutt will be devastated without you!"

"Indy has gotten along without me just fine for fifteen years," Marion said, crossing her arms, "and Mutt is almost grown. Indy can care for him. You, however, have a five year old waiting for you."

Willie shook her head, tears in her eyes. "I know that," she said, "but I know he'll be taken care of. Shorty will love him for the both of us."

"Uh, ladies," Indy said, interrupting, "don't you think you're husbands should get a say in this discussion?"

"No," they both told him at the same time, and then turned to face each other again.

Indy glared at them, and then threw Shorty a helpless look.

His foster son merely shrugged, not sure what to do, either.

"What about Shorty, Willie?" Marion asked, pointing at her husband's foster son. "He needs you."

"Indy needs you more," Willie said. "I love Shorty, Marion, but let's face the facts. He's still young, and time heals all wounds. Indy would be devastated without you, and he certainly couldn't handle Mutt alone."

"Hey!" Indy and Mutt exclaimed indignantly at that, but were ignored.

"What about Freddie?" Marion argued. "She's already lost her father, if you do this who will she have?"

"You," Willie answered, firmly. "That's the real reason I need to do this, Marion. You're by far the stronger one—strong enough to hold up both our families up after this. Indy won't let Shorty grieve himself to death and I know you'll look after Freddie for me. I've never been a particularly strong person, never doing anything that could be called bold or courageous, but this—to sacrifice myself for those I love—is my chance to do something worthwhile. I love them with all my heart, and if this is the only way to ensure my son gets even one of his parents back from this then I will gladly do it. Please, Marion, don't argue anymore. Let me do this."

Marion looked at her, then at the others holding their breaths around them, and then nodded.

Willie gave her a hug and kiss on the cheek.

"Mom," Freddie exclaimed, "no!" She was crying, tears rolling down her face.

Willie went to her, wrapping her arms around her. "It's the only way, darling," she told her, gently.

"I-I can't lose you, too," Freddie cried into her mother's shoulder.

"You won't be," Willie told her, gently placing a hand above her heart. "I'll always be right here…and remember I'll be weaving the threads of your life as they happen, so every time something good happens to you you'll be able to think 'my mother's responsible for this.''

"Does that mean if something bad happens," Freddie asked, showing the barest of a smile, "that I can blame you, too."

Willie smiled. "I suppose so," she said, grinning. She hugged her again.

She then turned to Mutt and Belloq. "Look after her for me," she said, "won't you, boys?"

Mutt and Belloq stepped up and each wrapped an arm around Freddie. "We sure will, ma'am," they promised at the same time. She smiled at them and then gave them each a kiss on the cheek.

She then moved in front of Indy and smiled at the sight of tears glistening in his eyes.

"Tears, Indy?" she asked, grinning. "Over me?"

"Believe me, doll," Indy told her, getting choked up with emotion. "You're worth every one of 'em."

She leaned up and kissed him on both cheeks. "Take care of them for me?" she asked him, referring to her family.

Indy grinned. "You're family's my family, doll," he told her. "Course, I'll look after 'em."

Willie grinned. "Never thought you'd see me doing something brave, huh?" she asked him.

Indy shrugged. "I always thought you were brave, doll," he told, "ya just didn't realize it, yet."

"Thank you, Indiana," Willie told him. "I appreciate that." She kissed him on the lips, then in remembrance of their brief time together and for what he was going to do for her family.

Finally, she moved in front of her husband. Short Round looked at her helplessly, and she was strongly reminded of the little boy she'd first met all those years ago driving that car back in Shanghai.

"Well," Willie said, smiling reassuringly, "looks like this is where we say good-bye."

Tears fell down his face as he nodded. "Please," he begged her, "don't do this."

Willie reached up and wiped his tears away. "It's going be okay," she told him. "I'll always be watching over you."

"It won't be the same," Shorty told her. "I need you."

"Oh, Henri," Willie said, using his 'chosen' first name. "Trust me, it'll take time, but you're going to be okay." She leaned up then, and kissed him passionately on the lips.

The kiss lasted for several moments, and then she pulled away and turned toward the dais. "I'll stay," she told the two remaining Fates. "I'll be the Mother."

"Come," the Matriarch said.

"Sit," the Maiden said.

"Weave," they spoke at the same time.

She nodded, and started forward. The moment her foot touched the first step, the doors opened again.

"I think its time to head on out," Indy told the others, nearly choking on the words, "while we can."

Marion and the kids nodded, but Shorty Round merely continued to watch his wife ascend the steps.

"Shorty," Indy said, placing a hand on his shoulder, "we gotta go, pal."

The younger man shook his head. "Go without me, Indy," he said, "I-I can't leave her!"

He tried to take a step toward the dais, but Indy stopped him.

"You can't stay," Indy told him. "You've gotta kid to think about!"

Shorty still didn't look at him. "You cared for me," he said, "I know you'll take good care of him. Let me go, Indy!" He was trying to shake off his foster father's hand.

Indy held on. "You're his father, Short-stuff," he told him. "He needs you, now more than ever!"

"Please, Indy!" Shorty tried again to shake off his hand and take a step toward his wife.

Indy sighed. "Henri Li Quan," he said, sternly, "_look_ at me."

Despite his heart break, Shorty knew better than to ignore that tone of voice. He looked at his foster father.

"I'm sorry, son," Indy said, and then swung his fist to connect with the younger man's jaw. Shorty Round collapsed and he hoisted him onto his shoulder.

The others had already gone through the doors, but Indy looked back one more time. Willie had stopped on the top step to look back. Their eyes met, and he nodded at her.

She nodded back, knowing he would take good care of everyone.

She smiled as he watched him turn and head through the door.

She then turned and stepped into the radiant blue light that surrounded the Fates.

She was now the Mother.

It was time to weave.

The Tapestry must continue.

Nothing else mattered…_anymore_.

TBC…

(A.N—Hey, I'm back from my trip! Up next is the last chapter to this story: The Price.)


	21. The Departure

Indiana Jones

_**Indiana Jones**_

_**and the **_

_**Honeymoon Adventure**_

Summary: Indy runs into a couple of old friends. Mutt runs into some BIG TROUBLE. Paris may never be the same again.

Author's Note: Mutt is just fifteen. Sequel to: Indiana Jones 4: 1952 Version.

Warning: spanking later on.

Disclaimer: I don't own Indiana Jones or any of these characters. They belong solely to George Lucas, Steven Spielberg, and Paramount Pictures.

Chapter 21: The Departure

They made it back to Paris alive.

The mercenaries decided to vamoose once they saw that their employer wasn't returning to pay them.

Indy and the others hijacked one of the vehicles and drove back to the ship that was waiting. It took some talking and a little bit of bribing, but the captain took them back to Crete, where they boarded a plane for Paris.

A week later, after retrieving little Indy and informing Donovan's wife of his fate, the Songbird was handed over to one of Willie's friends and the Jones' family, plus four, were ready to return home.

As they waited for the others to come out with their bags, Indy and Short Round stood outside the nightclub beside the car.

"I spoke to the Ox," Indy told his foster son, "and he said he'd be more than happy to share his house with you and the kids."

Short Round nodded. "I don't really like imposing," he started to say, but Indy stopped him.

"Ox's lives by himself in a house right next to mine," he told him, "and he said he'd be more than glad of the company."

Short Round nodded, his eyes never leaving the building he and Willie had shared some of their happiest moments in. "I miss her so much, Indy," he said, blinking back tears.

Indy nodded, placing a hand on his foster son's shoulder. "I know, son," he told him, sadly, "but that's the Price all men pay when they fall in love. We love them _too_ much, and so when their gone we can't even hardly function anymore."

"Like your father," Shorty reminded him, sadly.

Indy nodded. "Dad didn't know how to really gone on without Mom," he told him, "so he buried himself in his quest for the Grail to keep from thinking about it. He just never realized, at the time anyway, that a part of her was still with him. You're lucky; two parts of Willie are still with you."

Shorty nodded. "I know," he said, "but I still worry."

"That you'll miss her so much you forget about your kids?" Indy asked him, knowingly.

He nodded.

"I won't let that happen, Short-stuff," Indy told him, "want to know why?"

Shorty Round nodded, again.

"See this foot?" Indy asked, pointing at his left boot. "That foot will gladly find its way up your ass the moment I even think you're starting to drift away from Freddie and lil' Indy. Got me?"

Shorty grinned, not quite a smile but it was a start. "I can always count on you," he said, and then paused, "which is why I want to ask a favor of you."

"What?" Indy asked, curious.

"I want you to officially adopt me," Short Round told him. "Not so much for me, like I told you I don't need your name to know you're my father, but I want Indy to bear the Jones name, so that he can always be proud of his grandfather the same way I'm proud of my father."

Indy felt a lump form in his throat. "You got it, pal," he said, pulling the younger man into a hug.

Shorty hugged him back, and allowed himself to grieve a little bit for the love he had lost.

Indy just held him, rocking him back and forth gently. Nothing needed to be said, the embrace was more than enough.

Finally, they separated and Shorty smiled his first genuine smile in nearly a week. He scooped up the reason for the smile a second later, as his young son came running to jump into his arms.

"Papa," Lil' Indy said, "Freddie took a long time to pack."

"She did?" Shorty asked. "Well, son, that's just how girls are?"

The little boy wrinkled his nose. "I don't like girls then," he said, crossing his arms. "They take too long."

Indy and Shorty exchanged a knowingly look. "Don't worry, kiddo," Indy told his grandson, "you'll change your mind in a couple of years. Trust me." He smiled as Marion and Freddie came towards them, with Mutt and Belloq Jr. trailing behind carrying the luggage.

Shorty handed Lil' Indy to his father and then went to help the two teenage boys load the car.

"You know," Mutt said, grinning at his older brother, "you could teach me how to pick pockets.

Shorty grinned. "For purely educational reasons, right?" he asked him, smirking.

"Of course," Mutt told him. "Dad won't care."

"Think again, Junior," Indy told him, coming up behind them and smacking both of them on the butt.

"Ow!" they hollered at the same time, both grabbing their rear ends. "What was that for?"

Indy smirked at them. "For even considering it," he told them, placing the last of the bags into the back of the trunk. "Now, let's go. We have a plane to catch."

He went around to the other side and opened the door for his wife. "Some honeymoon, huh?" he asked her, smirking.

She just smiled at him. "With you, Dr. Jones," she told him, "it doesn't surprise me in the least."

"Oh, really?" he asked, grinning suggestively. "Well, just wait til we get home, Mrs. Jones, and I'll show you a few surprises you haven't seen before."

Marion chuckled, and then kissed him.

"Do you two mind?" Mutt said from behind them. "There are children present." He was holding little Indy, so he had the perfect excuse to use that particular saying.

Indy rolled his eyes and took his grandson from his teenage son. "Just get in the car, Junior," he told him, "before I strap you to the top of it."

Mutt saluted him. "Aye, aye," he said, and got in.

Marion shook her head and followed after him. Indy looked back one last time at the Songbird, an image of Willie flitting into his mind, and then he too joined his family inside the car.

With his grandson in his lap, his wife and son beside him, his foster son, his soon-to-be granddaughter, and his new foster son sitting opposite him, Indy couldn't help but smile.

_I really am a lucky man._

He closed the car door, and the driver headed for the airport.

In the Temple of the Fates, the Mother finished a particular segment of the Tapestry and smiled. Everything was going to be all right for the Jones.

She would see to it.

The End.

(A third story "The Greatest Adventure" will be coming soon. Stay tuned to see what happens.)


End file.
